


The Natural Order of Instincts

by QueerCannibal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha!Dumbledore, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Dubious Concent, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Forced Orgasm, Hand Jobs, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Touching, Omega!Snape, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prolonged Orgasm, Sexual Tension, Sexuality, Sexuality Crisis, Unresolved Sexual Tension, dominant Dombledore, emotional disorder, first aided heat, forced rut, mentions of depression, submissive snape, virgin, virgin!Snape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 84,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4102585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerCannibal/pseuds/QueerCannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after five years, his Potions Master still manages to surprise him; however, this surprise turns out to be the ruin of both of them. </p>
<p>After requesting an extra week off in the last month leading up to the new school term, Severus disappears. Three days later, Albus, curious as to why his Potions Professor asked for the extra time off, discovers Severus locked up alone in his personal quarters, unconscious, naked, and in heat. </p>
<p>Despite having always denied his Alpha instincts, Albus finds himself unable to resist the pull of the younger man, and the two fall prey to their baser instincts. </p>
<p>How can either of them possibly rise above their transgressions and move forward when everything is blurred in a hormonal haze?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tasting

 

 

      For the past five years, Albus Dumbledore often found himself being surprised by Severus Snape ( _both pleasantly and unpleasantly_ ). Whether it is that the young man, now freshly turned twenty-six, managed to comfortably stable himself at the healthy weight of one-hundred and forty-five pounds, or that he’d taken to posting stricter rules in the Slytherin common room; surprises of all sorts abounded where the young dark man was concerned. However, those surprises in no way prepared Dumbledore for the surprise that his Potion’s Master greeted him with at the beginning of August.

 

      Hogwarts Castle was relatively silent, its corridors empty, and its chambers vast and echoing as a cavern. Many of the Professors, those who had residence outside of the school, were only just returning from their summer holidays. Snape, though having a place of residence in London, did in fact, live at the school; at least for the time being. In the beginning of the early years, Snape had expressed his desire to leave the school during the summer holidays, but Dumbledore had not permitted it; back then, there were too many risks with permitting the younger man out of his sight for long periods of time. In the present however, Dumbledore had stated several times, that should Severus ever wish to leave over the holidays, he was free to do so; Snape never did. Not for long anyway. He would sometimes leave for a day or so before returning to his lodgings inside the magic castle. This was one of those times.

     Severus had left the school in the middle of June, and Albus had patiently awaited his return, not even bothering to check in on the younger man; he felt that after five years, he knew Severus better, and Severus knew himself better, and Albus was certain that he could trust Severus’s judgment. Albus often found himself wondering why Severus bothered to return to Spinner’s End, the desolate and gloomy place of his abused childhood; but he never asked. He felt, that if Severus wished to enlighten him, he would in due course.

 

     August fourth was a warm bright summer day, and Albus found himself leaning back in his chair gazing dreamily out of the window towards the grounds rather than going through his mail. His desk was littered with letters, which he really ought to have been replying too, but the warmth, and the sunshine seemed to have drifted through the window with the sole purpose of befuddling his brain, and making him sleepy. His brain was jarred back to attention at the sharp rapping knock on his office door.

Straightening up and blinking several times to clear his rather glazed vision, he bid the guest enter. He was pleased to see Severus stride into his office, the door closing behind him of its own accord as he approached the desk. The summer heat seemed to have affected the otherwise unflappable man before him; gone were the billowing black robes, and tight form fitting high collared black shirt with _far_ too many buttons; replaced, instead, with a much simpler dark gray button up shirt. Though it was a nice change, Albus still thought that it looked far to stiflingly hot to wear; the long sleeves were, of course, rolled all the way down, and though Albus knew the reason for this, he could not help but feel bad that the young man couldn’t even expose his arms in hopes of releasing some of his body heat.

     “Ah, Severus, so you’ve returned.” He greeted merrily, smiling up at the younger man, who he did not fail to note, had not taken his regular seat. Severus did not return the smile, but did nod curtly, his pale hands clasped behind his back. Albus knew that without his billowing robes, the young man didn’t quite know what to do with his hands.

     “Yes, Headmaster.”

     “Now Severus,” Albus chided, though his smile remained just as merry, and his eyes just as kind as he surveyed the younger man. “Haven’t we had this discussion before? You are free to call me by my name when we are alone in each other’s company.”

     “Yes, Headmaster, but this is not a social visit. What I have come to discuss with you is of professional concerns.”

     “Oh?” His brows rose slightly. Certainly they were not to discuss his most recent denial of Severus’s request to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts? Albus felt that the new term was still too far away for _that_ argument; though he did not doubt that it would eventually come, like it did every year.

     “As always, with the end of summer fast approaching, I would normally take this time to finish up my preparations for the new term, as are most of the other teachers. And since working on preparing for the new term constitutes as work, pay will begin again.” Albus nodded, he knew all of that already. Pay would begin circulating again at the end of the week, as it did every August. Albus was not quite sure where Severus was going with this, though he did fleetingly wonder if the young man was going to ask for a raise; he certainly deserved it, in Albus’s less than humble opinion. Severus was an extremely dedicated worker, and even gave Minerva a run for her money. Albus had long since voiced his opinion to the school governors that the teaching staff at Hogwarts deserved a higher pay grade. “I would however, like to request an additional week off.”

Albus was surprised. He certainly hadn’t expected that! For the five years that Snape had worked at the school, he had never ONCE requested time off; it was not uncommon for Minerva, or Poppy, or even Albus himself to have to wrestle Severus into bed when he came down with something that could not be quickly cured. The man was a hard worker, and did not seem to enjoy time off.

     “An additional week? Well, of course that can be arranged, my boy. Though, I am curious about this request. May I inquire as to why you are asking for additional time off?” He asked casually, opening his desk drawer and pulling out a piece of parchment and signing it without hesitation. Severus’s track record of always finishing his preparations early gave Albus no reason to deny the other man’s request; he didn’t doubt for a second that this additional week would not impede the other man in anyway.

     “For personal reasons, Headmaster,” Snape stated, clearing his throat very faintly. “and I would like to leave it at that, if you please.” Albus accented with a smile, and handed over the parchment to Severus, who took it and tucked it into his pants pocket. “Thank you, Headmaster.”

     “Of course.” Albus found, as the other man turned to leave, that his curiosity was only more peeked. What  _personal_ kind of reasons would keep Severus from his work? He looked to be in good health, and Albus hadn’t heard of any emotional outbursts, or mental breakdowns; though neither would have surprised him. Severus was, unfortunately, a very broken individual. He was a long suffering, and haunted young man; Severus had had many breakdowns and outbursts during his early days as a Professor, and though he had long since grown into his position, Albus always kept a weary ear and eye out for signs of strain.

 

*** * ***

 

     The following days had professor’s and ghosts flitting in and out of his office, discussing with him things that needed looking over for the beginning of the new term; or complaining about things that needed fixing, tweaking, or merely blowing off steam due to jitters and frustration. Albus took it all in stride, and helped where he could. He had always had a fondness for the teachers of the school, though most of those he had originally worked alongside during his own time as a Professor at the school were gone now, his fondness had stretched out for almost every Professor who entered the school; almost.

     There were some teachers Albus would have rather forgotten, but knew he never would. He did his best not to think to ill of any of them, after all, and he had to remind himself of this fact often, they were younger than him. Albus would, on occasion, forget that he was quite a lot older than his colleagues; he’d taught most of them himself. Thus he had to remember, he had more life experience, and though their experiences were no less important, he had to remember that his age gave him better means of coping; most of the time.

 

      After a long afternoon sit down with Minerva, who he counted as one of his closest friends at the school, Albus felt that it was time to get out of his office, and stretch his legs. Too often he found that he’d cloistered himself up in that office; and for a man who had trouble sleeping, found that its square footage not sufficient enough for long late night pacing.

     With no destination in mind, he merely meandered, letting his feet take him wherever. He would occasionally come to pause, having come across a teacher, or ghost, or even Peeves the Poltergeist, but after exchanging a few words, he would begin again on his aimless wanderings. It wasn’t until four in the afternoon, and Albus reentered the castle after a long roaming walk out in the grounds ( _and a very long stop to chat with Hagrid_ ), that Albus realized that he hadn’t seen head or tail of Severus since their brief encounter in his office three days previously. This surprised him.

     Yes, Severus had requested an extra week off, but as far as Albus knew he was still in the castle; and at this thought, his curiosity was once again peeked. What exactly was Severus doing if he wasn’t working? Sleeping, perhaps? He certainly could use the extra rest, as he got very little as it was. But somehow, Albus couldn’t figure that, that is what the time off was for.

     Deciding that he’d just,  _pop_ down to the dungeons to look in on his charge, if only to assure himself that the young man was at least eating, he made his way towards the steps that lead down from the entrance hall to the dungeons. As he easily navigated the darkened corridors, Albus concluded that perhaps Severus had merely elected to stay down in the dungeons to escape the heat; the corridors were considerably cooler than the rest of the castle, bathed in sunlight as most of it was. He felt a little silly, not having thought of this.

     Remaining in the dungeons was not only cooler, but would give Severus prime opportunity to lose all of the layers he wore everywhere else. But even so, despite this most likely being the cause for remaining beneath the school, it did not explain the extra week off, and Albus couldn’t bring himself to simply turn around and return to his office; he wanted to know, and so, sooner rather than later, he found himself standing outside of Severus’s office. He knocked; more out of sheer politeness than necessity. Albus had many a times simply traipsed in on his charge, starting week old conversations where they’d left off, and helping himself to any drinks the potion master might have on hand. Usually brandy, though on occasion he would find vodka, but only on occasion; he knew that Severus had an aversion towards the stuff, and though the younger man had never expressed his aversion, Dumbledore knew; Severus’s father had been a great imbiber of vodka. When there was no answer, Albus figured that there were two possibilities ( _well three if he were perfectly honest with himself_ );

      One, Severus was not in his office but his private quarters and might not of heard him. Two, Severus might not be in his office, or private quarters. And the third, Severus might simply be ignoring the door ( _a highly likely possibility that Albus chose to ignore entirely._ )

     Deciding that his curiosity outweighed any feelings of guilt about barging in on his Potion Master’s free time, Albus simply entered the office. It was as dark and gloomy as it had been the last time Albus had been there; which had been quite awhile ago. Severus always attended him ( _whether for drinks, late night tea, small meals, or any other number of circumstances_ ) in his tower office.

      Severus was not in his office. Moving across the room towards the niche in the wall that he knew was the concealed and enchanted entrance to the younger man’s quarters, he dealt with the spells laid upon the wall and muttered the password knowingly. He had access to all of the teacher’s private quarters, as well as the house dormitories; though he rarely if ever visited any of them. He’d actually never been in these quarters while Severus occupied them. And again his curiosity was peeked. What would these quarters look like with Severus as an occupant? When Horace Slughorn had lived at the school, nearly six years ago now, the room had been bright, warm, with gaudy decorations and far too many luxurious comforts in Albus’s opinion; but he expected no less from a man like Horace.

 

*** * ***

 

     Stepping into the largest room of the quarters, which usually played as living space, Albus glanced around. The room was dark, only lit with the faint green light that spilled in through a single small window that looked out upon the lake. The room appeared to be half living room, half library. There was a dark armchair near the fire, and a two person sofa; Albus wondered why that was there, because he could hardly imagine Severus entertaining anyone; though he supposed it would come in handy should Severus ever need to bring a student, or a parent there to talk. Crossing the simple room, he paused at a dark door he knew lead to the smaller room, which would have plaid role of bedroom. The only other door led to a short hallway that would no doubt take him to the loo and Severus personal potions room. Knocking on the door, he waited ( _longer than he had outside_ ) politely. No response came. He was about to accept that Severus was indeed out of his quarters, when a faint noise met his ears. Frowning, he knocked again.

 

     “Severus?” He called. “I was merely looking for a word.” He said through the door, but there was no more sound, and no one to let him in. Frowning still deeper, he opened the door and stepped inside. The bedroom was far darker than the living room, the only source of light two deeply gutted candles hanging on the far wall. The room was decorated simply, with a small wardrobe in the corner, a chest of drawers, a small desk, and the bed; which is where Dumbledore located Snape.

 

     The top covers had been kicked aside, leaving them hanging half off the foot of the bed, and the sheets were rumpled and winkled as though the man upon the bed had been doing a considerable amount of tossing and turning. The man in question, lay sprawled on the bed, obviously in a deep ( _but restless_ ) sleep, completely naked, and skin flushed and sweaty. Though he was a bit embarrassed by looking, there was really no way to avoid gazing ( _even if only for a moment_ ) at the hardened cock jutting from between the younger man’s legs.

     It wasn’t until Albus had regained himself a bit that he became suddenly aware of the alluring scent on the air. He sniffed curiously, his mind buzzing at the smell, and making him wonder why it smelled familiar. Then, with a deep inhale, a glance at the man on the bed, and then a quick look to the desk where a tall potion bottle stood half full, Albus had his answer. _Severus was in heat._

     The realization seemed to hit Albus like a punch in the gut; though he was sure that the smell of sex, sweat, and hormones coming from the younger man was really the cause. _Severus was an Omega_ , and Albus marveled that the younger man had managed to keep that secret away from him. He couldn’t help but admire the younger man who he watched, almost cautiously, but also fondly from the doorway. Albus had plunged into that mind, which had willingly opened for him, on many occasions; had been offered all of Severus’s thoughts, and memories, both good, and bad. Albus had never thought for a moment that the younger man had managed to hide anything from him; but it seemed that Snape was perhaps, a far better Occlumens than Albus had given him credit for.

 

     While his mind buzzed dully, and his lungs seemed to draw in the alluring smell of the other man, Albus felt a sense of calm wash over him. It made perfect sense that Severus would wish to hide this fact form Albus; it would have been simple pride, and survival instincts. Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, were in this day and age, very rare. As the bloodlines diluted over the thousands of years, fewer witches and wizards presented signs of the Elder Race; which was just a silly term coined by lack luster Historians who didn’t really understand their own ancestry. Like blood status, which had an unfortunate hold over the wizarding community of the day, and seemed to govern how they worked together; so had the presentation of one’s ‘ _gender_ ’; Alpha, Beta, Omega; the original genders of the magically possessed of the long forgotten and mostly tainted past.

     Albus, who had, once upon a time, been caught up in blood status like many other wizards and witches, found the gendered system of the past just as foolish; of course, as an idiotic young man with far too many ambitions, had he had the knowledge he had now he probably would have been swept up in the grandeur of his ‘gendered’ status as he had been with his blood status, and dreams of Hallows, and conquering what he’d considered to be the lesser race; muggles. But, he was older now, wiser, and certainly hoped he’d learned from his foolish mistakes.The fact that Severus was an Omega didn’t bother him in the slightest; nor did it lesser his opinion of his Potion Master, in fact, if anything, it made him respect the young man even more.

      Snape stirred slightly on the bed, shifting into a slightly more comfortable position, and releasing that same faint sound Dumbledore had heard outside; a moan. Albus was drawn out of his pondering, and blinked, his eyes focusing once again on the naked man. Though he’d been distracted by his own thoughts, which often ran wild, he was not entirely unaffected by the naked man, or the heavily hormone laced air filling and suffocating his lungs.

His own body felt tight, strained, and a little warm, though he wasn’t surprised by this. He didn’t think that any Alpha could resist the alluring scent of an unmated, unbounded Omega in heat; even one who had long since taken suppressants like Albus.

 

When Albus presented as an Alpha at age sixteen, he had started taking suppressants for many reasons; _One_ , it kept his rut at bay, which was far kinder on an already hormonal teenage body; especially since Albus did not know, nor did he have access to any presented Betas or Omegas. _Two_ , it also suppressed his own domineering scent, which should he have ever come across a Beta, but especially an Omega, would have been suffocating and strong. Even by Alpha standers his natural scent markers were strong; Albus had a theory that it was because he was rather powerful.

He had not come to this conclusion quickly, doing his best to study, and learn, and figure out some other reasons as to why his scent may be stronger than another Alphas. He did his best not to toot his own horn as it were. He was also lucky to have had a friend such as Nicolas Flamel, who he learned was also an Alpha, to help him with his theory. Flamel had had a very powerful presence and smell as an Alpha, and would not have been easily missed had he not taken suppressants, but even so, Albus had felt neither threatened, nor overly bothered by the other Alpha; whereas Flamel had voiced that Albus’s scent had stirred unease, and even aggression in him when he’d first smelt it. Which, in both of their opinions, proven that Albus would have been considered the more dominant Alpha of the two.

 

     Crossing over towards the desk, Albus picked up the potion and sniffed it; it was obviously a sleeping drought, and Albus couldn’t help but sigh as he set the potion back down and turn his attention to the sleeping man on the bed. Now that he was much closer the smell of the younger man seemed to grab him, and it seemed, had no intention of letting him go. His own body seemed to strum as his system attempted to fight off the suppressants, desperate to respond to the hormones of a needy Omega.

Albus let his eyes roam over the younger man’s pallid body, and to his swollen cock. Severus’s cock was rigid, swollen, and a deep angry red-purple blush; the glands of the crown had pushed a little past the foreskin, though not entirely, and was leaking heavily against the young man’s abdomen. And even though Albus could not see it ( _he could smell it_ ), he knew that there was also a faint leaking of fluid seeping from between the other’s taught cheeks; his body doing its best to lubricate his entrance in anticipation of being plundered.

      “Silly boy,” Albus sighed, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice. Moving to the bed, he settled himself beside the younger man, drawing him close and holding him.

       “Silly, foolish, clever boy.” Though deep within the grips of the sleeping potion, Severus shifted again, pressing into the warmth of the other’s body, another faint moan escaping his throat. The presence of another body, of warmth against his side, caused Severus’s neglected cock to jerk slightly smearing pre-cum against his pale skin. How could Albus ignore such a woefully ignored cock? Especially one that wept so nicely, begging to be touched?

 

      Admittedly, Albus wasn’t entirely in his own sense; but he had enough presence of mind, and enough suppressant in his system, to keep him from simply spreading those pale thighs and plunging into that wet heat; claiming the Omega as his. The Alpha in side of him, which stirred feebly and sleepily, was not opposed to the idea; Albus already owned Severus’s life, his freedom. Why not his body and heart as well? No. Albus wouldn’t do that to Severus. It would be too cruel, and the boy had known nothing but cruelty his entire life; Albus couldn’t take the option of someday finding a lover to bond with from Severus. He was still young, only twenty-six, there was still time for him to find someone. Albus would however, lend a helping hand; after all, servicing an Omega in heat, was not the same as claiming an Omega as his.

      Slipping his hand from the younger man’s shoulder, he reached down and wrapped his fingers around the other’s prick. Severus was hard and throbbing in his hand and Albus couldn’t fathom why Severus would try and simply sleep through his heat; that was so harsh and cruel on the body! He didn’t even need to stroke the other man; once his fingers tightened around the throbbing member it erupted.

With a gasp, and a low whine, the young body beside him stiffened and the cock in his hand spasmed and jerked, shooting long streams of seed across pale naked skin. Albus couldn’t help but smile; the hormones were making him feel a bit giddy. He couldn’t help but loving the feeling of the cock throbbing in his palm as the other spilled his seed; he couldn’t help stroking the hard shaft and milking what he could from the other man. When was the last time Severus had cum like that? When was the last time he’d relieved his balls, taught and full, and _oh so tempting_? Had he relieved himself before taking the sleeping draught? Albus highly doubted it.

It was hard for him to imagine Severus touching himself like this, wrapping his hand around his own prick and stroking it, _rubbing it_ , jerking it. Albus’s own member stirred feebly between his legs. He wondered how long the suppressant would hold out. He hadn’t taken it yet this month, since his scheduled rut wasn’t until September he’d been putting it off. The closer to a rut, the more potent the suppressant would act; and Albus had always waited to take the suppressant until a week before his rut. While he attempted to do the math where Severus was concerned, he swiped his fingers through the other mans spilled cum absentmindedly, drawing his fingers to his lips and sucking them gently.

He continued doing this, not entirely aware that he was doing it; gathering up the other’s spent spunk and then sucking it down. If Severs had been taking suppressants, which he obviously had, Albus figured that Severus would have probably been on the suppressant for some time. Unlike Alphas, who only went into rut once a year ( _though they could be enticed into rut by a needy Omega_ ), Omega’s went into heat every six months. And assuming that Severus had been taking suppressants since he’d presented, probably anytime between fifteen and seventeen, then Albus could only come to the conclusion that Severus had been on the suppressant for nearly ten years. Which he found rather alarming; suppressants could be dangerous and damaging to an Omega’s body if taken for too long.

     The longest advisable period for taking suppressants without going into heat was two years; then the Omega is advised to get off the suppressant for one heat before continuing on again. Albus wondered how many heats Severus had permitted himself; probably not many. Given the fact he’d joined the ranks of the Death Eaters right after leaving Hogwarts, he probably used the suppressants religiously to avoid detection. And then of course, when he’d switched sides, everything had been so chaotic, so busy; there would have been no way for him to get off of the suppressants and permit himself a heat. Albus couldn’t help the nagging feeling that this might very well be the first heat in which Severus had permitted himself to have. The thought pained Albus, forcing him to wonder what damage had been done to his charges body over the long years.

      Though his cock had wilted slightly, it didn’t all together flag; and Albus knew that it would take no time at all for that lean pillar of flesh to fully harden again and begin to beg for more attention. The younger man trembled faintly against him, his body was still burning in the grip of his heat; his orgasm only stoking the fire in his belly and encouraging more lubrication to seep between his cheeks. Albus inhaled; his own stomach clenching as a hunger for something besides food clawed at his insides.

      The musky, spicy smell of the slick far more intoxicating then any Spirit Albus had ever ingested. Stroking the other’s half hard cock for a moment; he let his hand slide farther down, palming the heavy balls and rolling them in his hand before dipping between pale thighs. Without hesitation, Albus slid his index and middle finger into the other’s wet entrance. His fingers sank to the knuckle before the muscles tensed and tightened; a faint gasp followed by a needy whine escaped the sleeping man.

     Albus waited, his patience dragging while the muscles flexed and struggled against the intrusion of his fingers; that wet heat seemed to grip him, whether to push him out, or pull him in he wasn’t sure. After a moment however, patience all but dashed, he sank his fingers as deep as they’d go before beginning a pumping rhythm. More slick began to coat his fingers, and escape with each withdrawal, till he was able to slide in a third finger, stretching the other man open more still.

     Severus whimpered and moaned, a wrinkle forming between his brows as he gasped in his sleep. Albus found himself whispering sweet nothings against the other’s temple between soft kisses, his fingers thrusting quickly in and out of the other’s needy heated body with relish. And even though his responses were sluggish due to the potion keeping him in a dreamless sleep, Severus’s hips did their best to push against those fingers, thighs spread, pleading to be filled and rutted against; begging for the only thing that could keep the burning in his insides at bay. Severus would have preferred an Alpha’s cock to be filling him, stretching him, filling his belly with seed, then fingers that couldn’t scratch the itch, but only rub it. Albus would have preferred to be filling the young dark man with his cock, which had lengthened and hardened beneath his own robes, pulsing madly.

      The suppressant wasn’t going to last much longer, and the part of Albus that could still think clearly was warning him, _warning_ him to pull away, to leave before things got out of control and he did something he would regret. But how could he leave Severus alone? The poor boy was absolutely _writhing_ against him, whimpering, and whining, _begging_ for relief from his discomfort. He couldn’t leave him like that! He needed him! And Albus had promised the boy years ago, that he’d always be there to help him; he couldn’t break that promise now.

With a growl that he couldn’t quite identify, Albus sat up, his fingers still plunging in and out of the other’s body. His grip and sense of responsibility and of _‘right’_ and _‘wrong’_ was slipping, and so he had to act, now, before it was too late. Sitting over the shorter man, fingers pumping roughly, Albus wrapped his free hand around the other’s cock, which was once again rigid and flushed, the first beads of pearly precum appearing at the slit. With a second growl he had less hope of identifying; Albus leaned down and swallowed the other’s prick till his lips met his own fist clutching the base of the other’s member.

     The loud keening cry that escaped the other man as Albus sucked him mercilessly, fingers pounding his insides, was almost enough to make Albus cum. His cock thrummed and pulsed in rhythm of Severus’s own as the man was brought to a second orgasm. Albus would have _loved_ to plunge his cock into the boy at that moment, his entire body taught and pulsing through the shock of release; would have _loved_ to force his way into that wet heat, knot swelling and plugging that twitching hole till they were locked together and he was coating those flushed insides with his spunk.

But with blinding speed, and confused swirling thoughts, Albus found himself instead, back out in Severus’s living room/study, the bedroom door slammed, cutting him off from the other man. Albus stared at the door for a long moment, not completely sure how he’d come to be on this side of it, but quickly turned away. He couldn’t trust himself, not now. His own cock had begun leaking between his thighs, and he knew, from the pounding in his veins, and the burning in his lungs with each breath he took, that his suppressant wasn’t going to be able to hold back his rut.

 

     Though he may have moved to leave, instead of heading for the dungeon corridor, Albus headed for Severus’s personal potion store room, lighting the torches on the walls with a mere flick of his wrist as he began perusing the shelves. It took him longer than it should have to locate the premade calming drought, but once he did he unstoppered the phial and took three large swigs of it. It wouldn’t work like the suppressant, to prevent his rut, but it would help keep him in his senses; calm his mind, and emotions, and help him not simply take the man in the other room by force.

     Setting the potion back on its shelf with a trembling hand, he turned and rested his back against the stone wall, parting his robes and dropping his pants in one fluid motion before wrapping his hand around his own straining erection. He pumped it quickly, harshly; he could feel the potion beginning to spread in his system, the warmth developing in his mind and chest beginning to rival the burning firestorm churning in his gut.

It only took a few rough strokes before his climax hit him; with a loud groan his body stiffened and his cock erupted. He forced his hand to continue tugging at his spurting cock viciously, gasping as his body shuddered, and the knot began to form and swell at the base of his length. The knot, that was never distinguishable while on the suppressant, continued to swell until it was bulbous and tight, trying to lock him to a mate that did not exist; trying to insure that he would be able to fill his mate with every last drop of his seed; trying to assure that there was no way for his mate not to become heavily impregnated with his offspring. With a piteous whimper that caught in his throat, Albus tightly locked his fist around the knot, which pulsed and throbbed as more cum continued to shoot out of his aggressively hard cock.

Eyes tightly closed, Albus did his best to remain upright as his body strained in its prolonged orgasm; he’d forgotten how exhausting and taxing his rut could be. Forgot how hard his cock got, forgot how much he’d cum. His body, though still strong, was far less adept at handling the rut as his seventeen-year-old body had been. Once his cock had stopped pulsing, and he could breathe again, Albus opened his eyes, gasping slightly, and sweat clinging to his skin as he trembled against the wall. He kept his fist firmly around the still swollen knot; his cock jutted from his fingers still hard and flushed, the head glistening with beads of cum.

The floor before him was splattered with shiny ropes of his seed; far more then he could have produced while on the suppressant. He vaguely thought that he should clean up after himself when this was all over, but any thoughts of cleaning or manners were erased as his fingers twitched around the knot and he was forced to grip it tighter as another orgasm was ripped from him; his cock twitched as more ropes of cum escaped to paint the dungeon floor.

 

*** * ***

 

      After enduring four eruptive orgasms, Dumbledore, fully robed again and only faintly out of breath, emerged from the potions store. Severus’s living room had darkened considerably, and Albus estimated that it was probably nearing sunset. With a flick of his wrist, the candles and torches about the room flared into life. The living room smelt vaguely of Severus, a scent Albus was now very keenly aware of. It didn’t smell of the man’s heat, but simply of him. It was a rather mild spicy scent, and Albus found that it was quite pleasant to his heightened senses.

Glancing towards the bedroom door, Albus sighed. He couldn’t leave Severus alone, he _wouldn’t_ ; the foolish boy needed to know that he _HAD_ options; that he needn’t suffer through his heats. Besides, Albus had touched the other man and invaded his body; and even though he’d only used his hands, it was still a violation that he could not simply walk away from. Severus would have to be told, it was only right.

     Crossing the living room towards the bedroom door, he only hesitated a moment before slipping back into that darkened room. Where Albus was calm, his still pulsing blood merely a simmer beneath his skin, granted a small reprieve from his rut after orgasm, Severus was not so lucky. The younger man still laid fretting and sweating upon the bed, thighs and cheeks coated in spicy scented slick, and blushing erection twitching against his abdomen.

     Severus had become considerably more animated since Albus’s retreat, and the headmaster was certain that it was because the sleeping draught was beginning to wear off. Albus closed the door, and crossed to the desk, picking up the sleeping draught and moving it out of the man’s reach. Severus would no doubt seek out the potion upon waking, but Albus wouldn’t let him go back to sleep; sleep was not the answer. Once the potion was out of reach, Albus conjured himself up a comfortable chair to sit in; despite the other man’s overwhelming scent, which coated Albus’s mouth and lungs like a heavy blanket, Albus remained mostly in his right mind; the calming potion he’d taken assuring him that things would be okay; assuring him that even though his rut was upon him, and a needy Omega lay in heat before him, there would be time to deal with those things. There was no reason to be hasty. It was a potion induced lie, of course, but Albus found that he was rather content to simply sit in his chair, and watch the other man hungrily.

 

As Snape began to come back to himself, the first thing that returned to him through the darkness of the sleeping draught was his sense of self; and the overwhelming _NEED_ thrumming through his body was a painful reminder that he was currently in heat. He let out a groan that he could not hear, but could feel vibrate in his throat. He felt heavy; his body pressed down into the wet sheets beneath him; his skin felt irritated and sore. His muscles twitched, and he could feel the lubricant slick between his cheeks, far wetter, drenching the sheets beneath him, than he’d bargained for.

The next thing that returned to him as he slowly rose up out of the sleep induced haze was his sense of smell, and with it, the overwhelming scent of power that seemed to press him into the bed. A loud whimpering groan escaped him as his sense of sound returned to him. God, what was that smell? It was suffocating him! And yet, all he wanted to do was have the scent permanently imprinted in his nose, his lungs, his skin, his very brain!

Shifting on the bed, panting slightly as his entire body throbbed, that strange overwhelming smell filling his lungs with every breath, he blindly reached towards his desk. His fingers found the smooth wooden surface, but no glass phial. He groaned a mixture of wanton lust and frustration.

     “Severus,” Snape’s entire body tensed at the voice, eyes snapping open, groping hand going still. It took a second for his eyes to adjust and for his vision to return to him, but when it did he spotted the man seated beside the bed; and then it registered, that smell, the powerful, overwhelming smell was coming from the headmaster. Snape closed his eyes again, and half groaned half whimpered, his body trembling slightly; in fear or lust he wasn’t even sure.

_The headmaster was an Alpha_ ; of course he was. Life often wasn’t kind to Severus; who’d spent his entire life suppressing his body’s natural instincts and hoping _NEVER_ to come across an Alpha. But now here they were. Dumbledore seated beside his bed, his smell both dominating and intimidating, making Snape want to both run and drop to his knees and present himself for the taking; and Snape, unable to do either, but afraid not to move, not to respond.

    “Severus, we need to talk,” Dumbledore shifted forward in his seat, but paused when Snape twitched, jerking away from the man and releasing what could only be described as a hiss. Dumbledore remained on the edge of his seat, gaze never leaving the younger man, who’d moved himself farther away on the bed, shaking limbs barely able to keep him propped up. Distress wafted from the Omega, and the Alpha in Albus wanted nothing more than to comfort him, assure him that he was safe, and that nothing would hurt him; but Albus had to push down that inclination. He was the cause of the distress! He was the reason that Severus was glaring so heatedly; dark eyes reflecting aggression and fear; though, and Albus couldn’t help but note, the erection between the other’s legs hadn’t flagged in the least. “Severus, please,”

     “What are you doing here!?” Snape spat, his voice harsh and broken from lack of use. He wanted to force himself to retreat further, but he’d reached the edge of the bed, and didn’t think he could stand, let alone run to escape.

     “I’ll be honest,” Albus said slowly and clearly, wanting to be sure that Severus would hear and understand him. He knew that the shock of his appearance was the only thing that had brought Severus back to himself; he also knew that this window of self-of-mind would not last long. Soon, Severus’s heat would get the better of him, and he would be unable to be at all objective about the situation. “I was curious as to your request of extra time off, and wished to have a word. When I discovered you, though my first inclination would have been to leave, I’m afraid that my own instincts prevented me from doing so.” He was ashamed to admit that his instincts had gotten the better of him, smothering his proper judgment. Severus, though trembling in his half raised position, continued to gaze steadily at him, black eyes glued to blue; proof that he was listening, even if he wasn’t saying anything.

     “My own rut,” Albus continued. “Coincidently enough was scheduled to occur next month. That being the case, I had not yet taken my suppressant. The scent of your own heat,” Albus found he had to swallow, his throat having gone slightly dry. “Was too strong for the nearly year old suppressant in my system to fight off. And, as it were, I have been driven into an early rut.”

At this Snape’s eyes widened, and a faint noise of distress caught in his throat. For the first time, he broke eye contact, looking around for any means of escape. In his panicked haste, he lost his balance, but before he could fall onto the hard stone floor, a strong hand gripped his arm and pulled him back across the bed, sheets being dragged underneath him. Though he should have perhaps been grateful not to have fallen and possibly caused himself bodily injury, all he felt was panic. Lashing out at the hand on his arm, he struggled, trying to get away from the other man.

     “Severus please calm down.” The request, though heard, went unregistered. Snape’s mind was nothing but instinctual panic that told him to get away! This Alpha, this Alpha was dangerous! He was unbonded, something that the Alpha holding him there must have known. It didn’t matter to Snape that it was Dumbledore, the man who would never have hurt him. All that mattered was that it was an Alpha, and he _HAD_ to get away.

Struggling to keep hold of the man fighting against him, Albus’s rather short patients was tested; if it weren’t for the calming draught still in his system he probably would have been inclined to be more forceful then was necessary. It was only when Snape sank his teeth into his wrist that Albus locked his other hand tightly around the back of the other man’s neck. The second his grip tightened the other man went slack, lying on the bed, black hair covering his face; legs awkwardly curled under his body. Albus’s stomach gave a pleasant flutter as he held the still figure against the bed, his hand firmly pressed against the Omega’s bonding gland at the base of his skull.

Invisible to the eyes, the gland was used to force an Omega into submission, usually used if the Omega was in danger of hurting themselves or their mate.

      “Severus,” Albus’s voice was a little sterner then before, and the man beneath him let out a faint whimper, shifting slowly to unfold his cramped legs; the hand upon the back of his neck preventing any further movements. “Severus, I’m _NOT_ going to hurt you. Now, please, you have to listen to me.” Releasing the other’s neck, Albus lowered himself back down onto the edge of his chair.

 

Snape didn’t move for a moment, merely remained where he’d fallen. But after a moment, his brain registered what the other man had said, and with considerably more effort than it was worth, he forced himself back into a sitting position on the bed. His thighs trembled beneath him, drenched with slick. If his body hadn’t already been overheated, he probably would have blushed with embarrassment at the knowledge that his body had released fresh slick when the other man had forced him down on the bed. His cock was leaking obscenely, but he couldn’t bring himself to be embarrassed; couldn’t bring himself to try and close his thighs, or hide his nakedness. What was the point? His mind was foggy, and his scent was practically embedded in the walls of the room; there would be no hiding anything from the man seated across from him.

     “Severus, can you understand me?” Albus inquired, his voice calm once more, tone clear. It took a few seconds, but the dark haired man on the bed nodded, black eyes once again turning to blue and holding his gaze. “I must assure you Severus that I did not take you.” He let this sink in, hoping that the other man understood what he meant. He seemed to; the panic and anxiety from before had gone, replaced with simple unease. The Alpha in him didn’t like this either, but it was better than panic; but only just. “The suppressant remained in my system long enough to keep that desire at bay. However,” and Albus had to clear his throat which had gone dry again. “I cannot claim innocence. I was drawn to you Severus, and I touched you.” Snape’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t say anything, or try and bolt again; he merely sat there on the bed, sweat clinging to his skin, shivering slightly. Albus continued. “I touched your hard penis, and stroked you through orgasm.” The rather clinical words tasted bad on his tongue, but Albus was doing his best to get these confessions out before either of them lost themselves again to heat and rut respectfully; the simmering beneath his skin was beginning to warm, and he knew that time was running out. “I cleaned up the evidence of your release, and then proceeded to plunder your body with my fingers, just my fingers.”

Snape couldn’t stop the trembling that began assaulting his limbs. He was trying very hard to keep focused on what the other man was saying, trying to understand what it meant; but it was a struggle. His cock was throbbing painfully between his thighs, precum dripping onto the tangled sheets with obscene ‘plop, blop’ sounds. He could feel the cleft of his ass wet and slick, an uncomfortable sensation. He could feel the muscles in his rectal canal twitching, wanting to be filled, stuffed beyond comfort, pounded and painted with cum; the other man’s cum, Snape’s brain added helpfully. A forceful shiver wracked his body and he gasped slightly, shaking his head, while trying to keep eye contact. The other man was talking to him, demanding his attention, and Snape wanted, no, _needed_ to listen; he needed to understand, it was paramount.

     “I thrust my fingers deep into your body, without invitation, and continued to do so mercilessly while you slept on, helpless to prevent it.” Dumbledore said, and Snape’s ass clenched slightly, as though his body could remember the feeling of those long slender fingers plunging in and out even though he couldn’t. “And before I was able to force myself away from you, I took you into my mouth, and swallowed down everything your second orgasm had to offer.” Snape couldn’t repress the loud groan that escaped him, his cock twitching heavily between his thighs; he had to close his eyes to try and steady himself. He couldn’t look at the headmaster any longer, couldn’t help but image those fingers forcibly plundering his body, those lips parting to swallow him down. A keening whine escaped him as he forced himself to open his eyes, and draw away from those thoughts. “Do you understand, Severus?” Albus inquired.

And Snape did, he did understand. He understood that the headmaster had taken advantage of him, had touched him inappropriately, and without permission. But he didn’t care; couldn’t care, not right now. Maybe it would bother him later, when he could properly think, maybe they’d have words about it then, but now….

     “Yes, h-head-p-professor.” Snape could feel the burning in his body begin to flare up again; the shock of the other’s presence, of the presence of an Alpha, wearing off. Fear was being replaced with need, pure, unadulterated need. Need to be filled, need to be dominated, and claimed by an Alpha; to be cared for. He gasped as he shifted, forcing himself onto his knees, thighs trembling as slick began dripping down between his legs. “I do…” He whined, closing his eyes. “But, please…” He shook his head forcefully, trying to keep it as clear as he could for as long as he could. “G-give me… give me the potion.” He opened his eyes and looked at the potion out of his reach; the potion that would let him fall back into that dreamless oblivion.

Oh, he didn’t want the potion. He didn’t. He wanted the headmaster. He wanted the headmaster to touch him, to push him down, to take everything from him, anything he may desire.

     “Severus,” Albus could smell the rise in the other’s pheromones, and his gut tightened the thrumming beneath his skin turning into a spreading heat that quickened his pulse. Severus was slipping, and Albus couldn’t stop it; and if he were honest with himself, didn’t want to stop it. He wanted to see the other man a trembling mess upon the bed, body spread wide for him, crying for him.

     “P-please h-h-Sir.” Severus stuttered, broken voice husky as he shifted to fall into his side on the bed, hair spilling out over the nearest pillow. “I n-need,” his voice broke and a pained whine escaped him, his hand sliding down and wrapping around his own raging erection, pulling at it uncoordinatedly.

      “Severus, I am willing to service you. You don’t need to go through this alone.” Albus stated, voice a little darker, more gravely then before; blue eyes narrowed over half mooned spectacles as he watched the other man pull at his sex helplessly. “I can service you with no strings attached. Nothing expected of you. No conditions. Simply a service I can give you.” The younger man keened his back arching slightly as his thighs fell apart; his hand stuttered in its movements, but only slightly.

    “P-please, it hurts.” He whined, and that’s all the invitation Albus needed.

 

      Climbing onto the bed, and looming over the naked man; he pulled his beard together in his hand, and draped it over his shoulder as to keep it out of the way. Pushing the other’s hand away he wrapped his fist firmly around the other’s cock, a whimpering whine escaping the other man, who trembled beneath him, dark eyes peeking up from beneath heavy lids. There was fear there, fear of the Alpha, but something else; something that was struggling behind those dark eyes, but something that made Albus’s own cock twitch as it began to harden again: _trust._

     Severus trusted him; trusted him not to hurt him, trusted him to help him, care for him. Severus Snape _trusted_ Albus Dumbledore with all of himself; there were no more secrets. This was the last secret the young man had to offer.

      “I’ve got you,” Albus purred, bracing himself with his knees, and his free hand on the mattress. “It won’t hurt anymore; I’ll take care of you.” He assured, pumping the other’s throbbing cock in his hand with care; careful not to go to fast, or to hard, but just firm and quick enough that would bring the other man to the orgasm he so desperately needed.

     Severus whined beneath him, eyes closing, fingers digging into the sheets as he began gasping, body tensing and twitching as his cock was pumped; a moment later, and his entire body went rigid, a cry tearing its way up his throat as his balls drew up tight and he came all over his stomach. Albus hummed happily as he continued jerking the other’s spurting cock, loving the smell of sex, sweat, and Severus’s unique pheromones as the younger man cried and writhed through his orgasm. When the other’s orgasm subsided, Albus released the half-hard flesh, and let his hand roam over that flat pale stomach, smearing the cum before drawing his hand to his own lips.

      He watched the younger man as he licked his hand clean, his own cock hard and pulsing beneath his robes. Severus moaned drawing his legs up slightly so he could spread his legs wider around the man above him, lifting his hips a bit and doing his best to try and present himself. The position wasn’t exactly prime for that, but he wanted, no, needed the Alpha to know that he was wet, responsive, _ready_ and willing to be taken. The attempt to present wasn’t lost on Albus, who finished licking his hand clean before lowering his hand again, sliding down between pale thighs, and running his fingers along the drenched cleft.

      Severus keened, hips jerking slightly as Albus slid his fingers down along the cleft of the his ass, coating his fingers in the wet clear fluid there. Once they were coated liberally, he withdrew his fingers, and pressed them into his mouth. Dark eyes widened, and Albus found he rather liked the look of flushed surprise on the other’s face; so once he’d cleaned his fingers of the thick musky fluid, he once again dipped them between pale cheeks, coating them again so he could enjoy the flavor of the other man on his tongue.

     Severus trembled, silently while Albus continued to taste him, his knuckles brushing against his entrance and making his thighs jerk slightly each time. Albus found, though he was very fond of sweet, rich things, the flavor of the younger man, though musky, and almost spicy, was not unpleasant. Albus was also keenly aware that once he took Severus, the flavor would change; and though his logical brain told him that this was probably a onetime thing, the Alpha in him hoped very much that the young omega beneath him would permit him to service him during more of his heats. Deciding not to take a chance, Albus gripped the other’s legs behind the knee, and pushed, forcing the paler man to curl slightly while Albus lifted and parted his legs; Severus let out a small noise of complaint at the position, his weight being forced on his upper back and shoulders, but Albus didn’t care.

      The new position was perfect; exposing the other’s spread cheeks, and glistening hole. Shifting, so that the other’s legs were braced against his shoulders, freeing his hands so that he could support the other’s taught rear, Albus lowered himself and nosed at the other’s balls, inhaling the smell of pheromones and sex. He could feel the other man trembling violently, and hear the soft noises caused by the faint tickle of his mustache and beard against perineum and cheeks. Lowering himself still further, where Severus’s scent was strongest, he plunged between taught cheeks, and swiped the flat expanse of his tongue against the other’s entrance.

    If he didn’t know better, the scream that escaped the other man could have been construed as pain; but Albus knew better. Lapping along the cleft of the other’s ass, cleaning up old and new slick, he enjoyed the loud noises that his charge made; each yip, moan, and scream going straight to his cock; which hung hard and heavy between his legs, precum soaking through the cotton material of his pants. Once he’d cleaned the other man’s cleft and thighs, he slid between the other’s cheeks and began licking and sucking at the twitching entrance, catching the new slick as it was produced.

     Albus was certain that he’d never tasted anything quite as delicious as _HIS_ Omega’s virgin lubricant; for even if no bond was formed, there was no doubt in Albus’s mind, the Alpha’s mind, that Severus was _HIS_. He pushed his tongue into the other’s body as far as he could, sucking as best he could against the quivering flesh while his tongue sought out more of that delicious flavor.

   

      Snape couldn’t hold back the loud moans and cries of pleasure as the headmaster disappeared between his thighs, tonguing his entrance with vicious enthusiasm. Snape was almost certain that the man desired nothing more than to devour him from the inside out; a thought that only made him whine and the burning fire in his gut to burn even hotter. He clawed at the bedding, fisting the damp and crumpled sheets in his hands as his body tried to squirm, but the powerful hands proved testament to the headmaster’s rather impressive and prodigious strength; all he could do was tremble and twitch, throwing his head back against the pillows and attempt to drag much needed oxygen into burning lungs.

     His prick, which never seemed to go completely soft, was once again straining against his stomach, smearing and dripping precum against his curled stomach. It throbbed, and ached, but Snape didn’t dare touch it. He didn’t know the Alpha’s temperament, and though he knew Albus to be a patient individual, he was also aware of the man’s darker side; the side that could tear him down with a mere look.

     Snape groaned toes curling as his legs tensed against the other’s shoulders. Yes, Albus was a kind man, a gentle man, but he was also powerful, and manipulative, and clever; so, _so_ very clever. Snape had been on the receiving end of both sides of the headmaster, and knew that the man would have far less control over himself with the Alpha in rut. The mere thought making Snape’s spine want to snap, to arch into the ministrations against his entrance. Oh it wasn’t enough! He needed the other’s cock! Needed to be mounted, viciously rutted into, and _bred_! But it didn’t seem that the headmaster had any intentions of moving from his current place between his thighs; perhaps he was content to merely lap up the slick Snape was producing; a bodily response to the heat, and especially to the Alpha, that Snape couldn’t control. He couldn’t stop that flow of liquid, no matter how tightly he clenched his insides; it continued to leak, gushing inside of him for the pleasure of the Alpha.

He couldn’t take anymore, and with a high pitched scream that tapered off into loud grunting groans Snape came; cock jumping against his stomach as he spilt against his chest, and more slick coated his canal.

 

     Albus was a bit startled as Severus came, legs tightening around him, and a fresh surge of slick gushed from the other’s entrance, coating his tongue, lips, and whiskers. He stilled, mouth pressed against that spasming ring of muscles, while the younger man trembled and moaned through his release; fresh scents of sex and spunk assaulted his nose. Once the other man fell quite and still, Albus began gently lapping between pale cheeks again; slower this time. The trembling that had subsided slightly started again, and a whine escaped the younger man.

     “S-sir, no, p-please,” a gasp, and a whine. “N-no more… p-please… n-not enough….” Albus continued to lap at the other’s entrance, while carefully shifting so he could lower the other’s legs from his shoulders and back onto the bed. Meeting lidded dark eyes for a moment, he continued his lapping; pressing his tongue firmly against perineum, then laving the other’s heavy balls with a wet tongue. He drew one testicle into his mouth and suckled on it gently when he received a faint hiss from the other man, only appeased when he received a whimpered moan instead. Releasing the little orb, he continued his movement upwards; till he could lick a wet strip along the length of the other’s wilted cock.

Severus’s skin was salty with sweat and cum, and Albus drew the limp flesh into his mouth and sucked gently. Severus let out a cry, which he tried to stifle, hand pressed against his mouth and teeth digging viciously into knuckles. Albus didn’t stop, but continued to gently suckle on the other’s sex for a moment, listening to the smothered whimpers and enjoying the heavy, almost painful throbbing in his own cock; which he could feel was leaking obscenely within the confines of his pants. Sharp blue eyes flicked up to meet glistening black.

    Severus gazed back steadily at him, brows drawn together, and eyes tight and glistening with tears. Albus released the other’s dick with a slight ‘pop’ and moved further up the pale body, removing the knuckles from between slightly crooked teeth and gently kissing the reddened indents there.

     “My precious Severus,” Albus sighed, voice rough with lust. Tears escaped and slid down flushed sallow cheeks when dark eyes closed, and Albus gently cradled the other’s cheek in his hand, running his thumb beneath one eye to catch the tears. “Beautiful,” He purred. “So beautiful, perfect, my lovely, lovely boy.”

     “P-p-please,”

    “Shh.” Albus pressed his lips to the other’s kissing him rather chastely before withdrawing. “I’ve got you love.” Severus let out a whine at the praise; disagreeing with it, but also wanting to hear it.

     “Please, Sir, I can’t take anymore, please,” Pale, potion stained fingers gripped at Albus’s robed arms, and dark glistening eyes opened again to meet his. This was the most alive Albus had seen those eyes in a long time; usually Severus’s orbs were as black and as empty as tunnels, due to his constant practice of Occlumency. But now, now they reflected everything, every emotion, every thought, everything that the younger man was feeling. “Inside, please, sir. I need you inside.” Gripping the side of the other’s face, Albus pressed a firm kiss to those pale lips, before drawing back, blue gaze darkened and sharp.

      “On your knees, my boy.”


	2. Provocation, and the struggle of compatibility

     Albus slid out of his outer robe, the material pooling behind him, as the naked man beneath him rolled and lifted himself onto his hands and knees. Albus let out an appreciative noise as he gazed hungrily at the pale young man. Parting his under robe, he moved forward, pressing his still trapped cock against the curve of the pale quivering rump presented for him.

     Severus groaned, trembling uncontrollably as he pushed back against the drenched cotton, desperate for the hard length he could feel there. A hand between his shoulder blades pushed him down so that his chest was pressed against the sheets, ass in the air. Whimpering, Severus drew the nearest pillow to him and forced it beneath his chin, holding it tightly with his arms. A vague thought crossed his lust filled mind: _This will be my first time!_

The thought was frightening, and his shivering grew stronger, a quiet but high whine catching in his throat.

     Sensing the anxiety beginning to waft off of the younger man, Albus ran his hand gently up and down the other’s back, painting circular motions and making soft hushing sounds.

     “I’ll be gentle,” He said quietly, voice thick and husky. He would be gentle; easier said than done, but if it meant keeping his omega feeling safe then he would strive to school himself. Albus had had lovers in the past, not nearly as many as one might expect of a man who was one-hundred-and-five, but enough to have learned how to handle a weary virgin. Slow might not be possible for either of them in their current state, but gentle was still possible.

     Pushing his soiled cotton pants down his thighs, he gripped the bony hips and slid his cock along the cleft of that pale and narrow ass; sighing at the much needed friction. He thrust lazily a few times, letting his cock slide between the other’s cheeks, the exposed head bumping against the twitching entrance a few times. A soft whine from the smaller man beneath him, and Albus released one of the pale hips and gripped his own thrumming cock, aligning himself with the slick entrance and pushing forward slightly. Severus gasped, and Albus sighed when the head of his cock pushed past the ring of muscles; releasing his cock he went back to gripping the other’s hips, holding them firmly.

     “S-sir!”

     “Shush.” Albus pushed forward a little more, the slick aiding his advance even while the muscles strained against the intrusion. He stilled again, frowning down at the joining of their bodies, his body heat rising furiously beneath his skin. He clenched his jaw as the muscles fluttered around the first two inches of his cock; and he once again got the sense that the other’s body was either trying to draw him in, or push him out.

     “Please!” Albus was forced to hold the other’s hips in a punishing grip, having to prevent the other man from pushing back on his cock and possibly hurting himself; instinct was screaming to be filled, but since this was his first time his body may not have been fully prepared to take all of Albus so quickly. He knew that he would be leaving bruises behind on the other’s hips, but bruises were better than a torn anal canal.

When the other’s hips didn’t stop straining against his grip, Albus leaned forward, sinking a little further in, and wrapped his hand around the back of the other’s neck, pressing firmly against the bonding gland. Severus went obediently limp, whimpering faintly into the pillow beneath him.

     “Please, please, please, please, please,”

     “Shortly, love, shortly.” Albus bit out through gritted teeth, withdrawing a bit before sliding a little further in. The quiet pleading petered out to soft gasping as Albus continued to carefully canter his hips back and forth, sinking a little deeper with each shallow thrust. Soon, with the relaxing of Severus’s inner walls, and the slick easing his way, Albus was fully sheathed in the younger man’s body. Releasing his grip on the other’s neck, he let his hand fall back to bony hips. “Oh.” Severus gasped, dark eyes wide as he gripped the pillow beneath him; momentarily stunned by the fullness, Severus had a few moments of clarity. There was a cock in his ass; the _headmaster’s_ cock was imbedded in his ass! The thought forced a strangled sound from him, something between horror and excitement.

Albus leaned over the other man, growling and nipping at a pale shoulder blade, before pressing his tongue firmly over the bonding gland, forcing his Potion’s Master’s thoughts to return to the moment at hand with a violent gasp and jerk of his hips against Albus’s own.

     “Pay attention, dear.” Albus growled, fingers gripping the other’s hips firmly as he straightened up. “No reason to be rude.” Albus chided, withdrawing his cock, which sprang up as it escaped the tight warmth of the other’s body. His cock throbbed and twitched, precum beading at the head as he gazed at the clenching hole before him, slick seeping from the tight ring.

     “N-no,” Severus whined, pushing himself back and seeking out the headmaster’s cock; the burning in his gut blazing painfully at the absence of the Alpha. Repositioning himself, and with a single sharp thrust, Albus reburied his cock in the twitching, leaking ass of the man beneath him. Unable to suppress a soft groan of pleasure, Albus withdrew and entered again, building up a steady rhythm.

Severus groaned and whimpered the back of his neck and ears flushed and burning while the powerful wizard behind him thrust steadily in and out of his wet hole, obscene squelching noises accompanying every thrust. This is what he needed, this, here! Not just an Alpha’s cock, to split him open and paint his insides, but _THIS_ Alpha’s cock; he _needed_ Albus Dumbledore, needed him just as much as he needed air.

     “P-please,” The soft gasped word caught Albus’s attention, but he didn’t stop in his slow steady thrusting; enjoying the tight wet friction against his heated length. “Please d-don’t stop.” Albus couldn’t restrain the grin, cantering his hips a little more sharply so he could bump against the other’s prostate; grin growing when a sharp gasp informed him that he’d found his mark.

     “I have no plan to stop, love. You were born for this, my dear boy. Born to be taken like this, with care and intent. I consider myself fortunate to be the first to be permitted to bury my length in your tight body, and I plan to take a considerable amount of time to enjoy this great pleasure; taking you, again, and again over the next four days.” It wasn’t a lie, Albus felt honored to be thrusting into the virgin omega beneath him, filling him, stretching him. And he certainly believed that Severus deserved this careful, tender treatment, and was glad that Severus had never been unfortunate enough to meet another Alpha, perhaps a less kindly Alpha.

     Certainly if Voldemort had had any Alpha’s within his ranks, and Severus had gone into heat among them, he would have been taken ruthlessly, forced to breed, and forced to bond.

     He growled at the thought of anyone else touching _his_ omega, daring mount him without invitation. His grip tightened on narrow hips, and he slid out till the tip of his cock was the only thing connecting him to the other man, shaft glistening with the other’s slick, before pounding back into the wet heat. Severus gasped, body going limp against the bed, crying into the pillow as pleasure fueled the fire in his gut; this is what his body wanted.

Gasping, he moaned, whined, and wordlessly begged as the other man pounded into him, thrusts firmer, harsher, and a bit faster than before. The slick sound of the other’s shaft sliding in and out of him, along with the wet slap of their skin against each other forced keening cries to rise in Severus’s throat, causing Albus to groan and grunt with the effort; his grip on narrow hips the only thing keeping the younger man from falling to the bed completely.

      Albus had known that their first session wouldn’t be a lasting one; Severus’s first time, and Albus’s first rut in ages; it was just too much for either of them, and all too soon Albus could feel the knot at the base of his cock beginning to swell for the second time that evening. He pounded a little firmer into the willing, quivering body before him, his swelling knot bumping and catching against the stretched ring of the other’s entrance. He thrust firmly, pounding against the dark man’s prostate with abandon; jerking his hips fiercely away from the taught ass, Albus surged his hips forward, forcing his knot past the ring of muscles and into the slick wet canal where it filled fully, plugging the other’s hole and sealing them tightly, almost painfully together.

He bit his cheek sharply, tasting the coppery taste of blood as his orgasm washed over him, their bodies rocking together as he began shooting rope after rope of his seed deep into the other man. Severus let out a loud keening growl, pushing himself flush against the other man, as he felt his insides coated with warm wetness that was not his own. The knot inside him felt huge, stretching him farther then he thought was possible, burning his ass even while the constant thrumming pulse of cum hitting his insides dowsed the fire in his gut. He gasped, and sank his teeth into the pillow beneath him as his own cock jerked and climax washed over him.

Albus groaned as his young Potions Master’s ass clenched around him, milking even more cum from his jerking cock, the smell of the other’s sex making him dizzy as his love spent himself against the sheets.

 

     Once Albus felt his cock still, he leaned over the other man, resting his elbows against the mattress, pressing his forehead between sweaty shoulder blades. The hormonal haze was beginning to life, even despite the fact that his still raging hard cock was trapped within the quivering wet heat of the other’s body. A whimper beneath him drew Albus drowsy attention, and he shifted slightly, his cock twitching and pleasure sparking briefly in his gut.

     “Severus?” The pale body shivered violently, ass clenching around the knot and Albus hissed closing his eyes as another orgasm hit him, his cock jerking and spurting even more ropes of cum into the body beneath him. More whimpers, and gasps escaped the younger man as each spurt of cum filled him further, and Albus couldn’t help the rising sense of anxiety building in his chest, even while he was milked for all he could give. When he thought he could speak, his body thrumming but otherwise still ( _for the time being_ ), he did. “Severus, my boy, are you alright?” He inquired nervously. He’d intended to be gentle, but there was really no guarantee that he’d succeeded in the grip of his rut.

    “No more, please, no more.” Severus whispered voice thick as he trembled.

     “Severus?” Concern was welling up in him, but he couldn’t see the other man’s face clear enough from his position, and the knot still sealing them together prevented him from shifting to investigate. A soft sound however gave Albus all he needed to know; the sound seemed to reach up and squeeze his heart painfully; Severus was sobbing quietly into his pillow.

     “Please, stop. No more, please.” The younger man let out a louder sob as his body forced another orgasm from Albus, who hissed as two more spurts of cum was milked from him. “Please stop!”

     “I’m sorry; I’m sorry, dear one.” Albus hushed, pressing a soft kiss against the other’s shoulder, one arm curling around the skinny middle, hand pressing just beneath the other’s chest. “I can’t, I’m sorry.” Albus did his best to comfort the silently sobbing man, confused, and worried, and wishing more than ever that his knot would deflate and release them so he could properly examine the other man.

    The two remained like that for a long while, silent save for the soft sobs, and soft hushing. Albus’s body was drained, and he knew that the knot would be releasing them both soon; but not soon enough to alleviate the guilt eating away at him. His hand gently rubbed the other’s side, forehead pressed against a pale shoulder.

    “I’m sorry.” The quiet apology surprised him, and he opened his eyes a fraction. Severus had stopped sobbing, though his voice was still thick with emotion, and his skin had goose-fleshed while he shivered from the coolness of the room and not the hormones of his heat.

     “For what?”

     “For acting like a fool.” Severus sighed, wet dark eyes staring blankly at the opposite wall, not seeing the stone. “This isn’t your fault. I should be thanking you. Thank you for relieving the symptoms of my heat.” Albus didn’t miss the slight bitter tone to the voice, and his hand squeezed the other’s side slightly.

     “This was not a hardship Severus.” He said firmly, needing the younger man to KNOW and BELIEVE what he said. Severus was quiet for a long while, and didn’t speak again until Albus’s knot had deflated and he was able to withdraw himself. The dark haired man pushed himself forward, his hips popping slightly as he was able to stretch himself out on the bed. Albus closed his under robe, pulling his soiled pants off and bunching them up with his outer robe, still pooled on the bed. Grabbing the top cover from the floor, he pulled it up and draped it over the naked man, who curled into it, the only thing visible the top of his head and dark eyes, gazing blankly ahead. Albus settled himself beside Severus, leaning against the headboard, and gazing wearily down at the other man.

      “I was thirteen when I presented.” Severus whispered, and Albus started. “I’d read everything I could on Alpha’s and Omegas since I arrived at Hogwarts. My mother was a Beta, so there was always a chance that I’d present.” Pale slender fingers appeared, gripping the cover and pulling it down so it was tucked under his chin. “I saw the warning signs, and started taking the suppressants before I’d even experienced my first heat. I was supposed to get off of them when I was fifteen, but I forgot. So much happened that year.” He mused, the bitter tone once again lacing his quiet voice. “Discovering that I’d been right about Lupin’s condition. Potter and Black’s sexual assault upon me after O.W.L. exams. Lily….” His voice broke slightly, and Albus couldn’t stop himself from reaching forward and gently patting the other’s shoulder through the bundled up covers.

“I didn’t think about it again until the end of my sixth year, but by then I was staying with Lucius over the summers. I knew I couldn’t permit myself to go into heat while living with him. It was too risky. Always too risky.” Severus’s eyes closed, and a few tears slid down and over the bridge of his nose. “I was always too afraid to permit myself to go into heat,” Severus choked out, voice quivering slightly. “Even after coming to work here. I was afraid that it would make me weak, that if you found out you’d…” His voice broke, and Albus felt his heart clench in his chest, and he squeezed the other’s shoulder through the blanket. “I finally thought I could let myself go through it. Thirteen years. Thirteen years on the suppressant, Albus.” The change to his first name made Albus nervous, weary; weary of what the younger man was going to tell him next, even though he thought he already knew; had known all along. “After thirteen years on the suppressant…” Dark eyes opened again, and tears began to spill steadily. “Thirteen years… has left me barren.” Albus felt his own eyes burn as his heart seemed to sink into his stomach.

He’d feared as much when he’d attempted to do the math; though he hadn’t figured that the other man had been on the suppressant for quite so long.

     “I never planned to be with anyone, never loved anyone enough, at least, no one who ever showed interest in me. But nevertheless, the thought had always been there, at the back of my mind, rarely examined. I guess, I always figured that I could have children if I wanted them, someday. If I ever felt the fancy to do so. Either by breeding with a witch, or bonding with an Alpha; male or female, it didn’t matter to me. But… I’ll never have children. I’ll never sire, or bare children.” The younger man’s breathing had begun to pick up, his voice growing more and more ragged. “This is just another punishment for my sins. Another trial, another ring of hell that I must face. Nature works it so that my body begs to be dominated, mounted, fucked, bred. My very soul burns with the need to bare offspring to my mate,” he snorted, hand releasing the blanket and wiping at his eyes. “or to any Alpha who would take me.”

     “Severus,” tears streaked down his own withered cheeks, disappearing into his mustache and beard.

     “You must think me a pathetic fool. Unable to control myself, permitting the heat to force me to spread my thighs like a bitch, and beg to be fucked, filled with seed. Pointless. All so pointless. I’m not even worth anything as an Omega.”

     “That isn’t true!” The hard tone to his voice made the younger man start and curl into himself, but Albus pulled the covers down so that he could see the pale sallow face, frowning down as he peered into unusually emotional dark eyes. “You’re not worthless! So you can’t produce children! So what?” he snapped. “Just because an Alpha may want children doesn’t give him or her the right to demand that of you! You can’t have children, that is that, and they will have to accept that! Your ability to breed is not a deal breaker, Severus. It is not a downfall, or something that makes you any less worth pursuing!”

Severus was silent, gaze darting to the side, unable to look up at the other wizard; he felt such a fool. He twitched slightly when a hand gently cupped his cheek. “Severus, look at me.” It took a moment, but he obeyed, looking up to meet piercing blue eyes that seemed to peer into his very soul; he shivered. Those eyes had peered into his very soul, had examined every bit of him, combed over everything that made him who he was. Severus had never been closer with another human being in his life. “Severus, you must—”

     “What happens now?” He interrupted chest tightening as he looked up at the other man, as the soft warmth of that aged hand held the side of his face; maybe he was just servicing him, maybe it was just something that the headmaster couldn’t quite control, but Severus couldn’t help the warmth that spread in his chest. No one had ever been so gentle with him before, treated him with such care before, and he felt starved for the attention. He wanted the headmaster to continue being kind to him, gentle with him; even if only for awhile.

     “Now?” Albus inquired, sighing, running his thumb beneath a puffy pink rimmed eye; the skin there would be tender tomorrow from the salty tears, he was sure of it. “Now we rest, recover our strength, and wait until we’re drawn back to the passions of our instincts. I will spend the next few days, here, with you, assuring myself that you are quite well, and tending to you whenever your body needs tending. You will milk whatever you can from me, and then the heat will be over.” Severus closed his eyes again, and nodded. A few days was more than he had any right to ask for; he’d appreciate every last moment of it, and be thankful for the encounter; and he swore to himself, that once it was over, he’d never mention it to the headmaster again.

 

*******

 

     Once Albus was certain that they’d both be granted a short reprieve, he tightened the thin tie of his under robe, and ventured out into Severus’s living room, closing the bedroom door behind him till only a small crack remained. If they were to be going on like this for four more days, preparations would need to be made; and they’d certainly have to keep up their strength.

Summoning a house elf from the kitchens, a little elf by the name of Dori appearing almost immediately, Albus requested that the little elf bring food, and cold water; which the elf promptly did. An assortment of fruits, nuts, and vegetables arranged on large plates were set on the desk under the window that looked out into the lake. The cold water pitcher set on a cloth beside the assortment of food.

     While Albus gave the elf instructions, mostly consisting of privacy, a small bit of secrecy, and only permitting Minerva to come calling should a dire emergency arise, Severus wandered out into the living room. He was still naked, but had take up Albus’s outer robes and bundled himself up in the soft midnight blue material. Albus spared him a glance, a fondness twisting in his stomach at the sight of the omega wrapped up in his clothes, but continued relaying his instructions. Severus didn’t interrupt, merely wandered over, bare feet padding quietly across the stone floor, blue robes drawn up to his mouth, and usually lank black hair messy about his face. Once Albus had finished giving the elf his instructions, the small little creature turned her attention to Severus, who otherwise hadn’t paid the elf any attention.

     “Is Professor Snape requiring anything of us?” She squeaked, wringing her long fingers anxiously; the situation had been explained to her, but she still seemed concerned; an admirable quality Albus thought, as he eyed the younger man. Severus had moved nearer the desk, and a pale hand emerged from the bundle of robes and plucked a piece of watermelon from one of the plates before it disappeared into the other’s mouth. He chewed for a second before swallowing.

    “No.” Was the given answer; the elf hesitated a moment before first bowing to Snape, then to Dumbledore, before vanishing with a sharp crack.

     “We won’t be interrupted,” Albus stated, reaching around the smaller man, who drew the robe a little tighter around himself, and picked up one of the two plates. “Come on, you should eat more of this before too much time has passed.” And whether due to wanting to be close, or merely wanting the food, Albus was able to lead Severus back into the bedroom, where they both settled onto the bed to eat, and drink.

 

      Severus didn’t speak at all while they sat together, nor did he give up Albus’s robe, which he seemed to be using as a bit of a shield. Albus let this go, he couldn’t sense any anxiety, or fear from the other man, so figured that this was just Severus offering himself a small bit of comfort. He drank without prompting, but would seem to become lost in thought while eating, and would need to be reminded to keep eating before he’d take another piece of fruit or a small handful of nuts.

      Once they had eaten what Albus deemed enough, and once he’d assured himself that Severus had had plenty of water, they both settled down on the bed to rest. Snape, still wrapped in the headmaster’s robe, curled up at the edge of the bed, his back to the other man. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t want to be near Dumbledore, because he did, very, _very_ much.

But, Dumbledore’s scent was suffocating. Without the suppressant in his system, Dumbledore couldn’t control his scent, which billowed off of him like steam rising from quickly cooling skin. Snape had adjusted to the waves of magical power that the Headmaster gave of, having worked with the man for five years, but this… the Alpha Scent, was different. Magical power was affective, and did affect those around the headmaster, but only when he deemed it necessary.

The Alpha scent however worked differently. It affected Snape, as he assumed, it would affect no one else. It made his skin prickle, and his mouth go wet and dry in turn. It was alluring, seductive, and intimidating. Closing his eyes, Snape tried to focus on the smell of the headmaster’s robe; the scent was still there, but it was subtle, easier on his senses. Besides the feint smell of Alpha, he could smell sugar, and smoke, and the slight tang of magic. Snape had wondered if the headmaster enchanted his clothes to battle the summer heat, now he was sure that he did.

     Albus lay on his own designated side of the bed, silently watching the other man’s back, listening to his breathing as it slowly steadied and grew deeper. Only once he was almost certain that the other man was asleep did the headmaster remove his glasses, fold them neatly and set them on the desk. He wondered how much time they’d be granted; perhaps just enough for a short nap.

 

*******

 

     When Albus came too, he wasn’t even really aware of having fallen asleep; the two candles which had provided the room with a small bit of light had died out at some point. Reaching blindly towards the desk, he snatched up his glasses and pushed them back up his crooked nose before becoming aware of the slight shift behind him. Flicking his wrist, the two candles flickered back into life, casting their weak orange glow about the room. Rolling over he became aware of the heightened scent of hormones and slick, but had to rub the sleep out of his eyes before he could fully take in the other figure on the bed.

     Severus, with Albus’s robe still draped about his shoulders, was trembling on his side of the bed, flushed with arousal and glistening with sweat. His hands were wrapped in the robe, pressing the material to his face, and inhaling the scent hungrily, soft noises escaping him while his hips rocked slightly back against the mattress; his cock was flushed, arching from dark curls to rest below his bellybutton.

Albus thought the young man looked quiet lovely, inhaling the scent of the Omega as he sat up.

     “Again, love?” He inquired gently, careful to keep his voice quiet and his tone soft so as not to startle the Omega. Even though they’d mated once, the mere fact that Severus was unbonded would keep a certain amount of tension between them during their interactions. The dark haired man responded to Albus’s voice with a slight whine, a weary wrinkle appearing between dark brows as he peeked over the folds of dark blue robes.

      Albus shifted nearer, and was pleased that the other man didn’t seem inclined to retreat, merely tremble a little more and gaze at him wearily; Albus was certain that his hormone hazed mind didn’t quite know what to make of Albus. Was he a threat? Or was he the cure?

     “I’m going to touch you now, dear one.” Albus stated, lifting his hand, palm open before pressing it firmly but gently beneath faintly visible ribs. “Good boy.” He praised as the younger man closed his eyes and arched slightly into the touch. Albus ran his hand down along the sloped stomach, which was lean but not muscular; Albus pondered what the paler man would look like with toned features as he let his finger circle the other’s bellybutton before following the trail of spars dark hair, hand bumping against the hard flushed cock, which twitched slightly against the back of his hand.

Severus was surprisingly spars where hair was concerned, with only feint dusting of hair beneath his arms and between his thighs. His leg hair, though dark and coarse, was spars, leaving the long slender legs much softer to the touch then Albus’s own had been in his younger years. Of course, now that he was an old man, he’d lost most of his body hair, save for what was on his head, and between his thighs. Albus wondered if Severus’s lack of body hair was genetic, or simply due to the poor state in which he’d grown up; certainly he was not as tall or as broad as he might have been, had he been properly taken care of as a child.

He lazily ran his fingers over the black thatch of hair at the base of the other’s member, enjoying the texture against his fingers, and the hot weight of the flushed arousal against his hand. He knew logically that the other man was far more gone then he himself was; even when in the full grip of his rut.

      Omegas were wired differently, and couldn’t fight off or struggle through their heat without help due to the immense discomfort it caused; not to say that they’d die without the aid of sex, they wouldn’t. Sex, though needed among any species ( _man being no different_ ), was not the be all and end all of all things. Men and women, including those of their dwindling kind, could live without letting in to their baser instincts; but, Albus had to admit, where Omegas were concerned, nature and instinct was horrible cruel. If an Omega is not bred, the cocktail of hormones in their system could drive them quite mad; not in the usual sense of madness, it certainly wasn’t permanent, though it could have very permanent ramifications.

Omegas that were not bred, would be driven to seek out an Alpha, any Alpha, and willing submit to any that they may come across. This, of course, could be disastrous for the Omega, who might come out of the heat to find that they’ve been bonded to a complete stranger; in some instances, Omega’s having sought out any Alpha in the haze of their heat might even end up dead; though this usually was not either parties intentions, it had been known to happen once upon a time. Albus consoled himself with the knowledge that modern Omegas, or rather, Omegas of the last four or five centuries, have developed systems to prevent such things; usually being heavily sedated and locked up in a room where they could be watched over by an uninterested party. It was certainly a comfort that no deaths due to the heat had occurred in a very long time, though injuries were still prone to happen should Omegas and their uninterested watchers run out of sedatives.

      Albus was drawn back to the present as his hand was drawn away, back up the other’s body. Severus’s grip was light, not overly demanding, but insistent enough to be almost impertinent. Albus however permitted it ( _though many Alphas might have not_ ), he was quite used to Severus’s disposition, and the mere fact that small traces of his ill-manners were still present even now pleased him in a strange way. Albus was certain that Severus wouldn’t have been nearly as interesting ( _or fun to toy with_ ) if he had not been so prickly.

     Drawing the other’s soft and aged hand to his face, Severus gently nipped at the index and middle finger, before nosing at the inner wrist. Albus found the heat, which had been pooling steadily in his gut, burning a little hotter at the sight; it was so innocently intimate a gesture, he couldn’t quite help himself. Albus always had been a bit of a romantic, and certainly never had been against small signs of intimacy. Moving up the bed, he straddled the other’s hips, bracing himself on knees and his free hand. Severus glanced up at him once or twice, but the glances were fleeting; those unusually lively dark eyes falling closed as he inhaled Albus’s scent, and gently nipped at his skin.

     “How do you feel?” Albus inquired quietly. Neither of them had lost themselves all together yet, though Severus was certainly farther along than Albus. The younger man didn’t answer for a moment, contenting himself to merely scent the older man, though his scent would be drowned out by Albus’s own; Omegas had weak scent markers, which is why it was more accustomed for Alphas to scent and mark their bonded Omegas so as to keep other possible suitors quite at bay.

      “Hot.” Was Severus’s eventual response, nipping a little more sharply at the tender inside of Albus’s wrist; Albus’s fingers twitched, but he didn’t move. Severus was toying with him he was certain, testing his own limits, and Albus’s patience. Albus let him, it was in the boy’s nature to do so, Albus knew; he was also aware that should he show any sign of displeasure, Severus would, whether by nature, or by the instincts of his heat, yield.

      Severus was aggressive in personality, sharp in whit, logical beyond wizarding standards, and keenly intelligent. He was, in his own right, an Alpha among most who met him; however, the man knew when to bow down, expose his underbelly so to speak, even if only to ensure his own survival. Albus found them all to be quite admirable qualities.

      “How long were you awake before I woke up?”

      “Not long,” Severus said, voice quiet, dark eyes once again flicking up to glance at the man above him before closing once more.

Albus recognized that Severus’s lack of eye contact was no doubt due to his own inability to keep his shields and guards up; being a master Occlumens, the younger man was no doubt very uncomfortable with his lack of mental protection due to the heat, and the knowledge ( _though perhaps it was only a fleeting thought at the back of his mind_ ) that Albus himself was not only a master Occlumens but Legilimens.

Albus, of course, wouldn’t force his way into Severus’s mind; he’d promised the man years ago that he would only ever enter upon being given permission; which was not entirely a lie. Albus would not have invaded Severus’s mind, though forcing his way in no doubt would be a very trying challenge. Severus was however, required upon request to permit Albus access; or rather, he had been when Voldemort had been a more immediate threat, and Severus a spy. Now however, there really was no reason to request the young man to open his mind to him.

      “Would you have woken me up?” Albus inquired seriously, voice still soft, though a slight frown tugged at his features.

      “Eventually,” the younger man sighed against his palm. “out of the throws of the heat, your scent is suffocating, but in its grip…” the body beneath him shuddered slightly. “its unbearably alluring.” Albus would have preferred that the other man wake him as soon as he felt the heat beginning to come upon him again, but again, he was keenly aware of the fact that they were not bonded, and Severus’s instincts no doubt couldn’t quite make heads or tails where he was concerned.

      “Severus, I told you, this isn’t a burden or a hardship. I am here willing to service you. Waiting until you simply cannot wait any longer is--” but what it was Albus did not get the chance to say; Severus had sunk his teeth into the fleshier side of his hand sharply; and though it didn’t really hurt, it was surprising nonetheless.

       It all happened rather quickly. Severus sinking his teeth into him, and Albus assuring himself exactly as to what the younger man was doing, and what his motives were; less than a heartbeat later, Albus had one hand tangled firmly in long black hair, forcing the other’s head back farther against the bed, and the other wrapped firmly around the other’s throat. A faint gasp escaped the other man as his head was snapped backwards, but he bore his teeth, and that strange sound that could only be described as a hiss escaped him. Albus was unmoved; in fact, he was actually completely unbothered by the entire thing. He did, however, add a bit of pressure against the other’s throat; not enough to cut off his air, but enough to being alarmingly threatening; Severus was testing him, who was he to disappoint?

      “That was rude,” Albus chided voice stern, but still just as quiet and soft as before. “It is not wise to be rude to the one who so willingly gives up their time to help you.” Severus’s response was a slightly strangled spitting hiss, teeth still bared and dark eyes narrowed. Albus couldn’t bring himself to be mad, in fact, he was quite proud of the boy. The fact that they had mated once, and not bonded, left things between them rather confused; and the fact that Severus was challenging him, reassured Albus that even though Severus could not breed, he still had the drive to seek out a worthy partner.

      Throughout their practically lost history, Omegas were considered the weakest of the three genders; Albus found that rather laughable. Omegas, in his opinion, were the strongest. For in the end, it was the Alphas who really became quite dependant on the Omegas; while Omegas were slaves to their heat, that haze of hormonal lust ended upon being knotted; Alphas however were not released from their own hormonal haze until drained. Omegas could quite consciously milk their Alphas for everything they had; and, unlike Alphas who could be brought to premature ruts ( _which was often the case between bonded couples due to the fact Omegas went into heat every six months_ ), Omegas could not be forced into heat; they could, however, induce heat if they felt so inclined to do so. Severus’s instincts insisted upon finding a strong mate, a worthy mate, a mate who he could be assured was both capable of taking great care of him, but also protecting him; the best way to test his choice was to challenge the Alpha and see firsthand the Alpha’s instinct.

It was dangerous, and stupid, and could end in injury, but the drive for a strong mate outweighed the fear of being harmed; if the Alpha was worth his salt, then any injury he may cause, he would tend. Albus didn’t intend on hurting Severus, though he was more than willing ( _and if he were honest, very pleased_ ) to firmly put the younger man in his place.

      Perhaps sensing the Alphas decision, Severus spat a low growl at him, curling his legs and using his knees and hands to attempt to get the other man off of him. Forced to release his grip on the other’s throat to void being kneed sharply in the stomach, Severus twisted himself, not minding the slight tearing at his hair as he wriggled out of the other man’s grip in attempt to get away. He would need a bigger space to have any sort of advantage, something that Albus was aware of. Snatching at a slender pale ankle, Albus prevented the other man from escaping the bed; if they must struggle, Albus would preferred it be on something soft; bruising themselves up on each other’s bones and joints was one thing, bruising each other up on stone floors and walls was not appealing.

Twisting, Severus aimed a kick which connected with Albus’s wrist, sending a flood of numb warmth up his arm to his elbow, which turned to a dull throbbing ache as he tightened his fingers, refusing to release the thrashing man. With impatience, and a considerable nod to Albus’s own surprising strength, he yanked the other man back across the bed towards him, sagging up his other ankle as he pulled him towards him. A wave of the Omegas hormones, as well as Severus’s own usually well contained magic, buffeted against his own with surprising force; the wood of the bed frame and headboard splintered with a loud crack. There could be no denying, that though there were many amazingly talented wizards of Severus’s generation, he was, by far, the strongest of the lot.

Albus could admire the younger man, and even pondered who could have won ( _if given the chance to a fair duel_ ), Severus, against James, Sirius, or Remus. Severus had been powerful while at school, but had appeared quite bad at dueling merely due to the fact that he was usually outnumbered; now however, Albus thought that the young man probably could have held his own against multiple attackers.

      Shifting forward to slip between the other’s legs, and ultimately eliminating them from being able to cause him to much damage, Albus let himself go a little; the room crackled with static magic, leaving a slight metallic taste on the air. Their auras seemed to clash, and swirl around them, causing the wood to splinter a bit more, and dust to fall from the stone ceiling. Grabbling with the younger man’s flailing arms, and doing his best to avoid being clawed at or punched, Albus eventually managed to get a firm grip around both wrists, slamming them against the bed and baring down on the thrashing man beneath him.

With a particularity loud crack, Severus gasped, dark eyes widening as the brunt of Albus’s aura pressed down upon him, and the chest of drawers across the room splintered and cracked, spilling some of his clothes onto the stone floor. Taking advantage of the other’s momentary surprise, Albus pushed the other’s arms above his head and pinned them against the crumpled sheets with one hand, the other fisting in dark hair and forcing the other’s head against the mattress.

With a growl of his own, Albus bent down and sank his teeth into the other’s throat. A startled sound escaped the smaller man, but he continued to struggle, and hiss. Albus couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ have any of that. It was time for the boy to submit.

       Growling, and with perhaps more force that was entirely necessary, Albus shifted to bite down on the side of the other’s neck; he could be a bit more vicious, without fear of really damaging the other’s windpipe. Biting hard once, he began ravaging the other’s throat, nipping sharply and tearing at the tender skin with his teeth; though he was mindful enough not to draw too much blood.

He could taste feint traces of copper against his teeth and the other’s skin, no doubt due to the sharp nips, his teeth drawing small beads of blood to the surface that wouldn’t really bleed, but would bruise darkly. As he abused the other’s neck and throat, the struggling limbs stuttered slightly, until the fight merely turned into a weak struggle, limbs twitching and jerking slightly at particularly hard nips.

Shifting, Albus clamped his teeth over the other’s throat, careful not to damage windpipe, or larynx. He could feel the vibration of the other’s hissing growls against his teeth, and added a bit of pressure, closing his jaw ever so slightly. The vibration died for a second, followed by a strangled piteous whine. He did not relent however, and continued to aggressively bite and nip at the other’s neck, moving to mark up the other side. Yips and whines escaped the man beneath him, but he ignored them; Severus would need to learn, and be mindful of this lesson. It wouldn’t do to repeat this every time their hormones began to rise again. At a particular harsh nip at the flesh just below a pale ear, that drew a small bead of blood, a loud whimpering whine rose up in the other’s throat, and vibrated against Albus’s teeth and lips. However the noise wasn’t the only show of submission.

Albus felt the other’s hips lift off the bed, and gently bump against his lower stomach. He remained still, holding the other man down with hands and teeth, though he’d ceased his biting and nipping. Another whimper, and he felt the other gently begin to rock his hips against him; not really in attempt of self pleasure, though that certainly was there, but more in a show of hands. The Omega was attempting to placate him by showing that he was receptive, something that only fueled the fire in Albus’s gut, and made his cock begin to stiffen.

      Oh Severus was beautiful; there could be no denying it. Maybe he wasn’t a typical beauty, but Albus couldn’t quite resist the appeal of the younger man, naked, whimpering, and cantering his hips up to rock against him pleadingly; all signs of a submissive Omega trying to apologize for bad behavior. It was so tempting to just release him and take him, but no, Albus wasn't through yet.

      With a growl Albus clenched his jaw a little firmer before letting go, teeth scraping against abused skin and drawing a gasp from the other man.

     “Stop.” He snapped, his grip in the other’s hair tightening. Severus whimpered, but his hips lowered back to the bed obediently. With a stern look over slightly crooked spectacles, Albus took in the other man. Severus’s throat was marred with blotchy red marks, feint indentations of teeth, and a few smeared marks of blood. By tomorrow, his neck would be positively, black, blue, and yellow.

Shooting the younger man a warning piercing look, Albus released his grip on the other’s wrists, which remained where he’d pressed them into the bed. He could feel the other trembling beneath him, thighs trembling violently against his own knees and thighs. He could smell the excess of slick dripping from between parted cheeks; the smell though still slightly spicy, was now more heady and musky then before; the scent altered by Severus having lost his virginity.

The smell would have become even more drastically different if Severus had been impregnated, but since that was impossible the lingering smell of spice would always remain; this pleased Albus, whose cock had fully lengthened, and hung heavily between his own thighs.

      “Struggling against me was rude,” Albus reprimanded, grip tightening in dark hair as he shoved the other’s head back a little more, leaning down so that his face was directly in the other’s. The discomforted expression, and faintly surprised dark eyes, mixed with the intoxicating scent of a very willing, and very sorry Omega drew words from Albus he hadn’t entirely met to say aloud. “You do not disrespect your Alpha; _you yield to your Alpha_.” Severus whimpered black eyes closing tightly as he licked his lips; unable to really express beyond vocally, his hands moving from their place above his head.

Albus growled, tugging slightly at the other’s hair; Severus whined, and his hands stilled for a moment before continuing on their course. One hand curled loosely in the folds of the under robe at Albus’s chest, the other wandered lower, forcing Severus to arch uncomfortably against the hand tangled in his hair; but with a few hitched gasps, the other slid his hand between the folds of Albus’s under robe, and tentative fingers gently gripped the hard sex hidden there.

Albus growled again warningly, but Severus keened pathetically, eyes still closed as his fingers began to fondle what they could reach of the hardened length. Shifting slightly, Albus rocked his hips forward, pressing his cock a bit nearer to the groping fingers, which wrapped around the head and gently, tentatively began a struggled tugging rhythm.

      Albus sighed a little through his nose, the tightness in his chest from their struggle easing slightly as skilled, but unlearned fingers fondled him. Severus had talented hands, and Albus couldn’t help but hope that with practice, he’d become a talented lover. Not releasing his tight grip on the other’s hair, Albus gazed steadily down at the dark man beneath him, straining to touch him.

      “Are you sorry for you bad behavior, little Omega?” He inquired voice husky and dark, though still soft. Even when overcome by his rut, Albus had an amazing control over his temper; perhaps all of the years of practicing patience, and keeping his displeasure to himself had paid off. “Is that why you touch me, even though in doing so you only show more of your insolence?” Dark eyes opened and gazed imploringly up at him, a whine quietly parting dry thin lips.

      The look of pained helplessness was enough to drive Albus to gently, and slowly begin rutting himself against the other’s hand.

      “Do you want me to forgive you, hmmn? For biting me, fighting me, even after I’d proven to you that I would take care of you?” He could feel himself leaking into the other’s palm, smearing his precum against long fingers. “You want me to forgive you for your bad behavior, and it was very bad. I don’t know if I should,” He stated coldly, blue eyes narrowing as they locked onto black. “I was more than willing to service you, to dowse that burning heat in your belly, take care of you, and yet you behaved so badly. I’m not sure that you really are sorry.” Severus whimpered, obviously stricken quite deeply by the soft but harsh words. His hand continued to fondle Albus dutifully, but tears glazed over dark eyes. Albus’s gaze remained just as narrow, closed off, and distant as he gazed down at the other man, blue eyes never leaving black.

      “P-please,” The word was quiet, barely a whisper, but it seemed the Omegas instincts to prove himself to the Alpha were enough to begin drawing the strangled words from the otherwise stricken dumb young man. “I’m sorry… I am, I s-shouldn’t…” Tears began to leak from the corners of dark eyes, and Albus decided that the younger man looked quiet lovely when he cried; so often was that pale face screwed up in seething bitterness, or anger, that to see it marred by any other expression felt like a truly rare and beautiful gift from the heavens. Albus vaguely wondered how subtle the beauty would change if the paler man were to cry in physical distress rather than emotional. What would be the difference if he were to cry, distressed, by an over abundance of stimulation. Or in distress due to lack of enough stimulation. Would there be a visible difference? Would the difference be enough to take away from the beauty or add to it? Albus felt his cock throb and leak obscene amounts of precum into the other’s hand as his hips continued their slow steady rhythm; the mere thought of the other weeping in desperation or ruin made his cock jump and jerk in anticipated excitement. Oh, he wanted to see the other man cry; cry for him; cry to be touched, plead to be handled, whether it was soft and gentle or firm and rough; cry and weep when every gentle touch burned like fire; cry at a touch he wished to escape, but also could not bear to be parted with.

      “P-please, Alpha, I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry for my behavior, please,” A sharp inhale for breath caught in his throat, the scent of the aroused Alpha overwhelming; choking, he coughed slightly, brows knitting together as he struggled to breathe through the pheromones strangling his senses.

As the scent imbedded itself in his nose, his lungs, his brain, all thoughts seemed to cease save one: _**Mate.**_

      This Alpha was strong, powerful, and in prime health despite his age. This Alpha had proven his strengths, and his ability to nurture. This Alpha could sire strong healthy young, an important factor even though Severus himself could not have children; this Alpha could protect him. But this Alpha was unhappy, displeased with him; and though there was no danger, or real aggression coming from the Alpha, Severus felt panic stir in him.This Alpha was perfect, but a displeased Alpha was not entirely willing to breed, especially if it was the Omega who’d displeased him.

Severus gasped, voice choked as more tears escaped and slid down the sides of his face. His own pheromones had spiked in response to the Alphas, but how enticing could he be if he’d displeased this Alpha so? The mere thought that something he’d done might drive the Alpha away was devastating, and a soft sob tore from his throat.

      “I’m sorry, please, please, please, please,”

Albus slid his free hand between their bodies, wrapping his fingers around the wrist of the hand fondling him, forcing it still. He inhaled the heady aroma of the Omega, his cock twitching against still fingers.

This Omega was damaged. He could not rear children, which was a major downfall where any Omega was concerned. He smelled of ill health, weak health, another downfall where breeding was concerned. But… If this Omega could not bear his offspring, would his weak health really matter? He currently smelt quite healthy, a weak system gradually strengthening. Perhaps with more care, the care of an Alpha, this damaged, disobedient Omega could make a good mate.

      “Please, please, please, please,”

Eyes narrowing as he refocused on the pleading Omega beneath him, Albus decided a test of the younger man’s true feelings was in order.

      “Are you truly sorry for your behavior?” He inquired voice much quieter than before, tone a little harsher. Dark eyes fixed on his, red, swollen, and puffy.

      “Y-yes, p-please, please.”

Leaning down, he came to pause above the other man, face to face, noses nearly touching.

      _“Then prove it.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ones a tad bit shorter then the last (which was not originally my intention), but I really loved the idea of breaking it off here. I'll be working on the next chapter some more today, and will hopefully have it up relatively soon. 
> 
> I hope that this chapter isn't to confusing. You may note (in both chapters) that Albus tends to contradict himself, usually in thought rather than speech.
> 
> Like, he may say one thing, but then do almost exactly what he said he would do. Or say something, but then thing the exact opposite.
> 
> Make note, that this is due to the rise of hormones as he slips back into rut. Its basically a battle of wills, instincts against personal morals; hell, sometimes a weird funky ass combination of the two. 
> 
> If you're confused about ANYTHING, please let me know and I'll try and clear things up! 
> 
> Albus and Severus are a bit confused due to hormones, rut and heat respectfully, and I try and get that across with the writing.... sooo.. yeah. If something isn't clear, just ask, I honestly just want the reader(s) to enjoy the story, but also understand what's going on.


	3. Too bear an uneeded cross

     Before Snape could fully register what the Alpha had said, he was gone, leaving a confused and startled Snape on the bed. Snape pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around, eyes wide, chest heaving. His brain was lagging, and he couldn’t quite process the absence of the other man; the lack of his warmth, his powerful aura, the suffocating scent. _The scent_. _Yes_ , he could still smell the Alpha; he hadn't left, he was still there, but now Snape had to go to him, had to pursue him; he had to prove himself.

Rolling to the edge of the bed, he got up, holding onto the splintered frame of the bed for a second as the room pitched to one side. His vision blurred as his head spun, but after a moment of deep breathing ( _breathing that only intensified the Alphas scent in his nose_ ) and blinking several times, the world seemed to regain its equilibrium. Releasing the bed, he moved towards the door, which was closed save for a small crack. Light spilled into the dimly lit room, and Snape opened it slowly, blinking as more light spilled in, taking a moment to let his eyes adjust.

 

     The living room was well lit, the torches on the walls blazing brightly, casting everything into a bright warm glow. Eyes roamed the room for a moment, a sense of confused befuddlement lingering over his brain; it took a few seconds for him to process what he was looking at, the haze in his head leaving him in an oddly detached fog. He didn't like it. In fact, he _hated_ it.

After a few moments his gaze fell to the small sofa, where Dumbledore was sitting, comfortably, apparently waiting. Blue eyes, dark, sharp, and piercing. Snape felt quite pinned where he stood, wondering if he dare move closer. The powerful aura was still emanating from the other man, making the air in the living room feel tense with unspent magic; the pheromones too were billowing out into the room, thick, and strong, making Snape's mouth water. His entire fucking quarters were going to smell of sex and pheromones; the walls would ooze of the Alphas scent. A small tiny part of his brain grumbled at the thought, but the rest of him didn't care.

     After a short moment of hesitation, he released his grip on the door frame, and crossed the room, only slightly unstably to stand in front of the Alpha. The close proximity made his knees feel weak, and his head to swim again. There was no anger, or threat or aggression coming from the Alpha, but cold, distant, patience. The Alpha wanted him to prove himself, and Snape would; he would do anything to prove that he was good enough for the Alpha, anything.

     Albus made it a point to remain where he was, sitting comfortably relaxed ( _though he felt anything but relaxed_ ) on the younger mans sofa. He made it a point to school his expression when the younger man finally sought him out; the dazed expression on the other's pale sallow face rather amusing. Again Albus found himself completely enraptured of any expression beyond anger that flickered across the younger face, and hungrily supped it up; too soon those expressions would be schooled, locked away, emotions blocked off, and only anger ever bubbling up to the surface. Severus was a master Occlumens, but anger was one emotion that was difficult to master, and the young man seemed to lack the ability to school it.

     Honestly, Albus enjoyed Severus's anger. It thrilled him, the disruptive rages that the younger man could be driven to; and Albus had to admit, if even only to himself, that he had, on occasion, orchestrated events and situations just to rile up the younger man. There was reason to his madness of course; the fact that Severus could feel anything so passionate as anger gave Albus hope for the boy. It meant that Severus could, should the situation call for it, think for himself. In the beginning, Severus had been very broken, both emotionally, and mentally; the death of Lily Potter seemed to have shattered the fragile young man beyond repair. He'd longed for death, for the end, so tired of existing at such a young age. Albus, though considerably colder towards the man back then, wasn't able to help but feel badly for him. And he admitted, again to himself, that his manipulation of the young man to keep living, though brilliant, was cruel.

 

Back then, Albus had had to be quite strict and firm with the young man, insisting that he ate regular meals, drank plenty of water, took at least a bit of care for himself. There had been several months were Severus wouldn't do anything himself without being told to do it. Several months where he would only speak when spoken to, and would only hold up conversations when prompted. The only emotions that the young man had ever shown during those times (beside apathy) were anxiety and stress. It had take a long time for Severus to adjust to his new role as a Professor, and more than once the young man had been found in the back of Albus's office after classes in a fit of hysteria. It was better than apathy, but barely. Albus had found it all rather exhausting ( _though he understood the issues_.) The first time Severus had barged into his office in a seething rage Albus's breath was stolen from him. He'd seen the young man upset before, while he'd been in school, but he'd never seen this passion, this fire in the young man before. This, this was new. This was the beginning of recovery; though perhaps not a healthy recovery. Severus showed that he'd begun to feel again, that he was capable of feeling something on his own rather than feeling whatever he'd been told to feel.

Yes, Albus loved to see the young man in a rage, bubbling, and barely contained; loved watching the color rise in the man's sallow cheeks, the furrow of dark brows, the clenching of long pale fingers in billowing robes. He especially loved how angry the man would become when Albus dismissed his anger; it amused him, even though it was cruel. Albus’s hope was that, someday, should a reason ever present itself, Severus would be able to question him, or others around him; question the actions, the words, the meaning behind everything presented to him; hoped that he would question, and judge for himself. To long had the other man been at the mercy of someone else, told what to think and what to feel, what to say and what to do. Severus listened to Albus, obeyed his orders, and once upon a time, he’d done it without complaint. Yes, Albus liked it when Severus complained.

 

     Severus, body still trembling very slightly, stood eyeing the Alpha for a long moment, searching for any signs that his presence might be unwelcome; but he could find none. Hesitating only a little, he lowered himself to his knees, which felt far sturdier, pressed against the throw rug. He gently placed his hands on the Alpha’s calves, glancing up to check for any signs of displeasure; finding none, he drew his hands up, taking the soft under robe with them, till lean pale calves and thighs were exposed to him. The Alpha hadn’t as yet, fully exposed himself, and Severus found that he was rather curious, but not quite daring enough to push the robe any further open.

The pale legs were thin, perhaps even a bit scrawny, but showed tell tale signs of having once been quite strong and quick, though he could hardly imagine them ever being anything but lean. Somehow, despite the Alphas prodigious strength even now at his advanced age, Severus couldn’t imagine him muscular; well build perhaps, but lean and slender.

The Alpha was, even in his old age, very tall, and very thin, it was too hard for Severus to imagine what his body might have looked like in his prime, though he did have trouble imagining away the white of his hair and beard. Smoothing his hand over lean thighs, he kneaded the flesh slightly; though the skin itself was soft with age, there was a definite firmness to the muscle beneath, no doubt due to the Alphas continuous pacing and walking. Sliding his hands up a bit further, soft material parted to drape over onto the sofa, he carefully pushed the knotted material around the other’s middle just a little farther up. He swallowed, his mouth having gone quite wet.

     The Alpha’s cock was half hard, jutting from a small patch of white hair, and resting against his thigh; beneath, cradled against the V his thighs made, hung the other’s balls. He could see the small round orbs held in the wrinkled sac, and an overwhelming desire to fondle washed over him. The Alpha’s cock wasn’t that much larger than Severus’s own, though perhaps a little longer; his balls on the other hand, were a bit bigger, less firm, and would hang lower. Severus wondered if they hung low due to age, or if they had ever been as tightly coiled to the other’s body as his own were coiled to his body. Leaning forward cautiously, hands still resting on pale thighs, he nuzzled the other’s half hard erection; chin gently bumping against warm testicles.

The Alpha’s scent was strongest there, between his legs, and Severus’s head swam with the cocktail of pheromones. The Alpha smelled delicious, irresistible; far too much a temptation for Severus to withstand. Leaning forward a little more, Severus ran his tongue along the length of the other’s cock, and was pleased to hear the slight hitch in the other’s otherwise steady breathing. His stomach churned pleasantly as he repeated the motion, tonguing the flushed blue vein on the underside of the hardening shaft. He licked and mouthed the column of heated flesh, and could feel the pulse of the other’s heated blood against his lips. Though the Alpha made no sound, Severus was certain that had he over stepped himself he would have been pushed away; the Alpha wasn’t really upset with him, just wanted as much proof of compatibility as Severus himself had wanted. It was understandable, and Severus was more than willing to oblige.

Moving lower, he began licking at the other’s balls, mouthing at the loose moist skin before drawing one of the round orbs into his mouth. He breathed through his nose and hummed softly as he sucked gently on the small globe in his mouth, swirling his tongue about the flesh before letting it slide from his mouth. Licking his lips, he moved to the other small globe to give it the same treatment.

     Albus’s breathing grew shallow as the dark young man worked between his thighs, drawing his balls into that warm wet heat, laving them with attention. The soft humming sound the other was making was lovely, and only stoked the fire in his gut. He couldn’t restrain a sigh when his balls were released and the head of his cock showered with licks and soft lips. Severus was certainly doing his best to work him over; not that Albus was complaining. The smell of the aroused Omega between his thighs did nothing but help aid in his own arousal; the smell of slick demanding that his body reply to the arousal; demanding that he grow hot and flushed, demanding that he rut into the needy Omega, demanding that he service him. The pull to do so was maddening, but Albus wouldn’t have been able to get up without bodily removing the younger man from between his legs; where it seemed, the young man fully intended to stay.

     Severus sank his mouth over the straining cock, swallowing and swirling his tongue around the exposed glands; his eyes rolled back and closed, a contented hum vibrating in his chest as precum coated his tongue. Adjusting his position slightly, he relaxed his throat and swallowed the Alpha’s cock down to the root. He felt his own cock twitching, thin ropes of precum dripping to the rug as fresh waves of slick began to seep down his thighs. The Alpha’s surprised gasp was music to his ears and he couldn’t help but hum in approval; he was rather proud of himself for surprising the Alpha. He could feel pale thighs trembling with the effort to remain still, and began bobbing his head; pulling off till just the crown remained in his mouth before plunging back down to the root. He let his hands cup the other’s balls, palming them and rolling them against his hand. He wanted the Alpha to cum, to taste more of the other’s fluids against his tongue; the precum was nice, but it wasn’t enough.

Soft moans that turned to sighs escaped the man above him, and he couldn’t help but smile around the prick in his mouth; he knew how good this felt now. Knew how stimulating it was to have another’s lips around ones cock, sucking it, licking it. Tightening his lips, he sped up his bobbing motion, mindful of his teeth as he did so. The groan that was forced from the Alpha thrilled him more than he could explain and he couldn’t help but mewl low in his throat, his hips jerking forward slightly to hump the air, slick soaking his ass and thighs. He could scarcely imagine the sight they must make; the headmaster and the young potions master, both debauched in appearance, and in Severus’s case, obviously wanton; the thought of them like this, him on his knees, the Alpha’s cock in his mouth plaid around his mind in hundreds of different scenarios. His mind provided detailed scenes between the two in all manner of places.

     _Sucking the Headmaster off in a niche along a dark corridor, where they might have bumped into one another during nightly patrol; the threat of a ghost floating by to see them at any moment only adding to the thrill of it all._

_Palming and stroking the Headmaster on those rare occasions when he was seated on either the left or right side of the Headmaster’s chair in the Great Hall; tugging at that slender pillar of flesh, sparking arousal in the older man while they were forced to eat their meal quietly, calmly. The angle of the head table provided cover from their fellow professors, and the students below at the house tables_ ; but the thrill of jerking the Headmaster off, the threat of being caught at any second made him moan loudly around the cock in his mouth. He couldn’t help but hump the air as he braced himself against the Alpha’s thighs, bobbing his head quickly up and down on the other’s dick. He was so hot; his skin felt tight, far too tight, and far too hot; he was burning from the inside out, cock and ass leaking profusely. He whined as he imagined sucking the Headmaster off in his tower office, hidden beneath the large desk while Minerva prattled on about unimportant nothings.

     Albus was completely surprised by the younger man’s enthusiasm, but perhaps more surprised by the lack of a gag reflex. It had taken Albus years to work past his own gag reflex, finally mastering it at age seventeen; but Severus, oh, he felt like a natural, as though he’d never had a gag reflex to begin with. He panted, hands pressed into the sofa cushion beneath him as the warm wet mouth bobbed up and down in his lap; that hot wet mouth was heaven, and oh how he wanted to thrust into it, to fuck the other’s mouth and throat till his climax claimed him; but he couldn’t. He told himself that he couldn’t because it would have been wrong to do so in this situation, when in reality, he couldn’t bring himself to do it only because he was supposed to be making a point and the younger man was supposed to be proving he was sorry for earlier; oh he’d proven it. Just by seeking him out and not begging for attention he’d proven himself.

     As Severus picked up his pace, Albus could feel the fire in his gut intensifying; could feel the tightening in his balls as they were fondled with talented pale fingers. He was close, far to close. Reaching down, he placed a hand on the other’s head gently; the temptation to grab that black hair and force the other’s head down till his cock was lodged in that pale bruised throat was great, but Albus managed to shake the thought from his head.

     “Severus, s-stop.” It wasn’t a demand, but a request, which seemed to startle the younger man who released him and sat up. Albus sighed, his cock throbbing and twitching at the absence of the other’s warm mouth. “Too close.” Was all he managed to say.

     “Then why stop?” Severus gasped, voice strained from a mixture of arousal and abuse. Albus’s cock twitched as he gazed at the naked man; he was certainly a lovely sight. Naked, bruised, flushed with arousal, skin glistening with sweat. His lips were pink and slightly swollen from sucking his cock, and there was a slight trail of saliva streaked down his chin. “I want this, I want your cock, your cum.” He tried to assure, but it came out more like a whine, giving Albus the impression of a bratty child; although, he supposed Severus kind of was like a bratty child.

The thought amused him, and he was sure he’d chuckle about it later, but there were more pressing thoughts to attend.

     “If I cum, then you’ll be left unsatisfied far longer than you’d probably like.” Albus stated, gaze darting between the other’s legs. Severus’s cock was flushed an angry red color, glands pushed all the way past his foreskin, and long beaded strands of pre-cum dribbling along his length and dripping to the rub beneath him. His thighs were just as wet, glistening with slick that continued to ooze out of him, leaving him dripping and soaked; both front and back demanding attention.

Severus scowled; it was a familiar look but lacked its usual heat. He shifted forward again and placed his hands on Albus’s thighs, as though trying to ground him in the now, and get him to understand the benefits of having one’s cock sucked.

     “I don’t care about that,” He spat, managing to keep the slight whine out of his voice but barely. “I just want you, to pleasure you, to taste your cum.” Dark eyes darted towards Albus’s straining cock, and a tongue peaked out to lick swollen lips as a drop of precum beaded up at the slit before sliding down along the shaft.

Before Albus could try and gather his thoughts to form an argument, those dark lust glazed eyes met his again. “If you won’t let me taste you then at least let me have your cum. I need it inside of me, please.” Pale hands curled around the folds of his under robe and he found the younger man pressed against him, his cock trapped against the other’s chest. “I’m sorry, I am, really. Please believe me,” He whimpered, burying his face against Albus’s stomach, his body shivering as he ground his hips firmly against the sofa.

     “I know you are, come here.” Albus snagged the man beneath the armpits and helped draw him up onto the sofa, straddling his lap. Severus immediately lay against his chest and shoulder, grinding his ass back against the other’s hard shaft with a whimper. Albus hissed, his hips automatically jerking up against the friction, his cock slipping into the cleft and smearing the slick there.

     “I want it,” The dark haired man mouthed quietly, lips snagging against the material covering Albus’s shoulder. Albus wrapped his arms around the naked man, helping adjust him so that they could align properly.

     “I know, it’s alright.” Albus shushed, pressing a quick kiss against the side of the other’s head as he gripped himself firmly in his hand. “You can have it,” He grit his teeth as the younger man pressed down against his cock, shifting his hips slightly to help Albus guide the head to the wet entrance. “all of it, it’s all yours. Everything I have to give is yours.” He sighed as he felt the head of his cock breach the ring of muscles and slide into the wet channel. With a broken whine Severus shifted on his lap and sank around his cock till he was half buried. He tried to warn the other to take it slowly, but with a snap of his hips, the pale man sank all the way down onto his lap, cock imbedded as deep as it would go, balls pressed against slick cheeks.

Albus groaned, head tilting back as the other let out a stuttered cry against his shoulder. He could feel the other’s body trembling around him, fingers digging into the thin material of his under robe, hot breath tickling his neck. The burning heat beneath his skin made his blood boil, and his cock thrummed and twitched within the hot wet confines of the younger man’s velvety insides. He knew he wasn’t going to last long; the cocktail of pheromones on top of their earlier scuffle and Severus’s amazing blow job had left his body feeling tightly coiled, ready to snap at any moment.

     Severus groaned against his shoulder, rocking his hips experimentally, pulling a low sigh from Albus, and a pathetic whimper from between his own dried lips.

      “Deep, so deep,” Severus panted, rocking his hips again, a little more assuredly this time, gasping at the fullness of the angle. “I didn’t know you could get this deep,” He whined, pressing his face against Albus’s neck and kissing the skin he could find there. Pale fingers gathered up his beard and pushed it over his other shoulder, out of the way, and permitting the younger man to press his naked chest flush against Albus’s robed one.

     “Are you alright, love?” Albus inquired, his own voice strained and his hips giving a slight twitch at the next roll of the other’s hips.

     “Yes, fuck me, please, just like this.” Albus’s breath hitched, and he felt his heart beating a tattoo against his breastbone. He would be able to rut deeper at this angle, easier to pound the other’s prostate; it would be easy to knot in this position. “Please A-alpha.” Severus pleaded quietly, rocking his hips forward with a soft groan and pressing his straining cock against Albus’s belly. “I need you, need your cock, p-please. It burns, I’m too hot, please make it stop.”

Albus’s cock gave a sharp jerk at being called ‘Alpha’, and he was unwilling, and certainly unable to deny the needy Omega on top of him. Gripping narrow bony hips, Albus rolled his own hips till they were perfectly flushed together again before beginning to thrust up into the other’s body. Severus gasped and cried softly as he was bounced on the other’s lap, the Alpha’s cock splitting him in two and fucking him deeper then he thought possible He couldn’t remain silent, and moaned and pleaded nonsensically into the other’s neck.

Albus’s pace was fast and firm, a little rougher than before due to the angle and the need burning in both of them. Each thrust tightened the coil in his gut, and he knew he was getting close.

     “I won’t last,” He warned as he felt the knot at the base of his cock begin to swell. Severus whimpered as the knot began to bump and catch against his entrance with each thrust, tightening his grip around the other’s shoulders, fingers tangling in long white hair.

     “Inside me, all of it, all of you, need it inside me.” Knot bumping against the other’s entrance with each thrust, Albus tightened his grip on the other’s hips and forced them down as he thrust up sharply, forcing his knot past the ring of muscles and into the other’s body where it filled completely, locking them together. His thrusts stuttered once they were connected, gasping at the feeling of his puffy swollen knot encased in the tight slick canal. “All of it,” Severus gasped, rocking his hips down on the knot in his ass and groaning as he felt his inner walls stretch and burn with the motion, more slick pooling in his insides in response.

Albus gasped, and Severus whimpered as Albus tensed and strained beneath him, his cock erupting and pumping the wet passage with his seed. Severus made soft keening sounds as long shots of cum flooded his insides, painting the walls of his ass and dowsing the burning in his gut with each beaded rope. The two sat like that, locked together, gasping and whimpering until Albus’s first orgasm subsided. Severus trembled against him, both gasping when the younger man leaned back, bracing his arms on the back of the sofa and Albus’s shoulder. Albus winced at the movement, his cock thrumming, teetering on the edge of exploding again. Severus’s face was flushed, strands of black hair falling into his sweaty face as he panted, pink lips being worried raw between crooked teeth.

He grabbed Albus’s right hand, moving it from his hip to between his legs, where the younger man’s angry cock strained. Albus didn’t need to be asked, merely wrapped his fingers around the straining flesh and beginning to pump it gently. Severus whimpered, eyes closing as he tremble uncontrollably. The feeling of the hard cock sheathed inside him and the hand gently pumping him was too much. With a high pitched whine and a gasp that turned into a strained cry, his cock jerked and throbbed in the other’s hand, balls pumping out his own seed to splatter against the other’s clothed stomach. Albus gasped, closing his own eyes, jaw tensing as another long orgasm was drawn from him; his hand stilled on the other’s throbbing cock as the young man’s inner walls fluttered and pulsed with his release, milking rope after rope of cum from him. Breathing deeply once he could open his eyes again, his cock still jerking against the other’s insides, he carefully continued his gently pumping and stroking of the other’s wilting dick. Severus had slumped against him again, using his shoulder as a headrest, sighing and gasping as his cock was fondled and his ass filled.

     “Albus,” “Yes?” His voice was weak, thick with exhaustion, tongue feeling far too large for his mouth. “Thank you. Thank you for this.”

     “You don’t need to thank me.” Albus sighed, closing his eyes and letting his head rest against the back of the sofa, breathing steadily as his stubbornly hard cock thrummed in the other’s body, his swollen knot keeping them tied together.

     “Yes I do,” Severus whispered, “I need to thank you now, because I won’t be able to later.” Albus opened his eyes a bit, and gazed unseeingly at the stone ceiling. The younger man’s words seemed to fill his head like distant echoes; echoes of words heard long ago that he couldn’t quite remember anymore. _‘I need to thank you now, because I won’t be able to later.’_

Even knowing that later, neither of them would be able to think beyond their lust, Albus knew instinctively that that later was not the later that the young man was referring to. Yes, there was an even later _‘later’_ that they’d both have to face, but Albus couldn’t think about it, or ponder it a moment longer as he was milked of another orgasm, their groans mixing in the quite of the dungeon room.

 

     For three more days they continued on like that, touching and nipping, fondling and kissing, till the strain in their bloodstream was too great, then Albus would mount Severus, and the two would fuck. When they weren’t frotting together, they would have circular, mumbled conversations that they wouldn’t remember later; they’d nibble on food, which every day would be replaced by the house elf Dori, who would fret a little, squeaking and trying to ascertain if they’d been drinking enough water, or if either was injured. The elf really was a perfect little nurse maid, and Albus admired her concern, though it annoyed Severus. For four days, the two reveled in the feeling of another’s body; the joy of having a mate to entice and comfort the contentedness of company. But all good things must come to an end.

 

*******

 

     Despite the total darkness of his small bedroom, Severus Snape was acutely aware that it was very early morning; his internal clock always screamed at him when he was at Hogwarts, telling him to wake up, get ready, and prepare his lessons for the day. It annoyed him that this internal clock continued to do so even over the Summer Holidays— _then he remembered_ ….

     Lying upon the devastated bed, Severus flung his arm over his head, the crook resting across his forehead. He gazed unblinking and unseeing at the stone ceiling he knew was above him; his bedding felt grimy, soiled by sweat and who knew what other ungodly bodily fluids. His skin too felt dirty, grimy, and greasy, and he could smell the tang of dried sweat and body odor marring his skin. Shifting against the bed slightly he grimaced, his body ached all over; forcing himself to stretch out and twist, his back popped impressively, the relief of it leaving him limp against the crumbled sheets for a long moment.

Making an uncomfortable hissing noise, he squirmed; the area between his legs felt sticky, and the cleft of his ass and backs of his thighs felt itchy and crusty; not pleasant feelings. Deciding that he could no longer lay there in the darkness feeling miserable and unwashed, he forced himself to roll to the edge of the bed and get up. Swaying slightly, he gripped the headboard for support, his hand dragging uncomfortably against the cracked wood and making him hiss.

He swore under his breath and a moment later the torches in his room blazed into life. He was momentarily struck dumb.

     The two candles he’d lit upon first returning to his bedroom were hallow, their wax pooling uselessly around them, wicks burned to their limits. The potion bottle that he’d filled with sleeping draught rested on the desk farthest away from his bed, only half empty. He frowned at it, dark brows furrowing. _Oh right_ , now he remembered. His frown softened but his gaze remained just as hard as a sinking feeling tightened his chest and made his stomach churn unpleasantly.

Taking a few steadying breaths, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Yes, he could still smell _him_ ; his _scent_ imbedded in the bed sheets, imbedded in his very skin, lingering on the air.

Deciding that he was far to filthy to dress in clean clothes, but knowing there were things to do before he had the chance to bathe, Severus pulled his pajama shirt and pants out from under the bed where they’d somehow ended up. He pulled the baggy black sweat pants up, tying them tightly so they wouldn’t slide down his hips, then he tugged the baggy long sleeved gray shirt over his head. Once dressed, forgoing underwear or socks, Severus turned towards his bedroom door, pausing with his hand on the doorknob to shoot one last look at his devastated room over his shoulder.

     The wood of the bed frame and headboard were cracked, and his chest of drawers lay splintered and split in two, clothes spilling out onto the stone floor like blood from a wounded animal. Turning his attention back to the door, he set his jaw, and opened the door, fully expecting equal disaster to have fallen his living room.

 

     When Snape stepped out into the living room he paused, the faintest look of surprise flashing across his face as his dark eyes took in the room before vanishing again, leaving the young sallow face blank save for a determined gleam in dark eyes, and a slight downward curl of thin lips. The room was perfect. Everything was intact, clean, even the air smelled less stuffy; the faint tinge of static the lingered however proved that magic had been cast, and the room no doubt cleaned rather recently.

Turning his attention from the room itself, his gaze slid over to the figure standing near the single window that looked out into the lake. The water beyond the enchanted glass was tinted with bright green light, and occasionally fish could be seen swimming past the glass in large schools. Dumbledore stood there, hands clasped together before him, looking clean and well groomed, at least from what Snape could see if his back.

     “I was going to leave,” The older man stated conversationally, though there was a slight hint of something else to his tone that Snape couldn’t quite place. “after I’d cleaned,” Dumbledore half turned on the spot, blue eyes shifting to look at Snape from across the room. “but I couldn’t bring myself to go.”

Snape nodded, his jaw clenching slightly, dark eyes sliding to look slightly to the left of the older man’s head.

“I,” He closed his mouth at the broken sound in his voice, and cleared his throat before trying again, still looking past the other’s head. “I want to know,” his jaw tensed again. “No, I demand to know, if…”

     “If we are bonded?”

     Snape couldn’t quite help the slight twitch that racked him at the headmaster’s calm quiet question and curiously inquiring tone.

     “Yes.” He managed to spit past clenched teeth.

     “You remain as free as you were when you entered this castle a week ago.” Dumbledore sighed, and Snape’s gaze snapped back to the old man’s face, dark eyes searching bright blue for any hint of a lie but finding none. He hesitated, but couldn’t resist lifting his arm and pressing his fingers against the back of his neck, running his pads over the flesh at the base of his skull. There was no mark there. The front of his neck and throat felt sore when he moved, but the back was perfectly mark free, and he couldn’t help but let the tension visibly drain from him as he let his arm fall back to his side. He remained unbonded, and though the thought should have been a comfort, it felt hollow, and a wave of a familiar but unwanted feeling stole over him; _loneliness_.

      “Severus, I think we should talk,”

      “About what, Headmaster?” Snape inquired, scowling and shrugging his shoulders.

     “About what happened here,”

      “And what _exactly_ happened here?” Snape asked voice clipped and a little harsh. Dumbledore said nothing, merely gazed steadily at him, and Snape realized the headmaster looked tired. Snape couldn’t stand the look and turned away, pacing behind the chair near the empty fireplace before turning to grip the back with his hands. He forced himself to look back at the other man, forced himself to gaze steadily into bright blue eyes, eyes that were missing the usual annoying twinkle; the lack of that mischievous spark that usually lingered in the other’s gaze annoyed Snape more than he knew it ought to.

     “Are we to sit and talk about the fact that we spent the last four days _fucking_?” He inquired, spitting the last word as though it vile, and hating the slight flinch he saw mar the other’s withered face. “That’s what it was Headmaster, _fucking_ , nothing _more_ , nothing _less_.” It wasn’t a lie, but it burned his insides as though he were talking about committing the worst possible taboo and he knew that the word made the Headmaster uncomfortable.

     Dumbledore was a romantic, Snape knew that, and it wasn’t too hard to guess that the man had probably never been fond of the mere idea of 'fucking' in his long life. No, Snape figured that the man had always been a lover, but neither of them could pretend that what had happened between them was lovemaking; _it wasn’t even close_.

     “Are we to talk about the evidence of our encounter? The bruises and dried fluids left behind on my skin? Or the invisible ghosts of sensations left behind on yours?” Snape tilted his head, the tightness in his chest burning and churning, bubbling up like molten lava; he felt particularly vicious, and though every harsh word that left his lips felt like a lash against his own skin, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Are you feeling _guilty_ Headmaster? Is that why you wish to talk? To try and alleviate that guild boring down up on you?”

     “Severus—”

     “ **Do** you feel _guilty_ because you _touched me_? Guilty because you _plundered_ my body and plucked away the fruits of my _virginity_?” The harshness of his voice had been tainted with something of amusement, though no amusement shown in the depths of his dark eyes, the wrinkle of his brow, or the frown of his lips. “ _Don’t_ make me laugh with your notions of romanticism, Headmaster. I hold no stock in such things. My virginity was not something _sacred and pure_ that I was clinging to, something I was hoping to give away to the love of my life.” And he couldn’t help the leering chuckle as he stared at the headmaster. “It was merely something that had not managed to be stolen away, and I had never been inclined to give it away myself. For my entire life, sex was the last thing on my mind, the least important. I am not troubled that it is gone, nor am I bothered that you’re the one who took it.”

     Dumbledore remained silent on the other side of the room, simply looking at him, calmly, almost sadly, the tired look in his eyes mingled with something else, something that Snape had seen there before: _pity_.

He bore his teeth in a seething scowl, his fingers clenching the back of the chair so hard that his knuckles had turned white and bloodless. He hated the look of pity in the other’s eyes, hated that he knew it so well, hated that the headmaster ever felt the need to pity him.

     “Well don’t look to me to alleviate your guilt headmaster,” He spat, voice rising a little in his confused anger and loneliness. “You’re an idiot if you feel guilty at all!” He snapped, chest heaving has he tore his hands away from the back of the chair. He moved around it quickly, and swiftly found himself face to face with the older man, barely a few inches between them. “ _Don’t_ pity me because you think you’ve taken something from me, because you think you’ve taken advantage of me for your own gain, that’s bullshit and you know it.” He hissed, all of his emotions seething just beneath the surface, but the only one rising to the surface and seeping into each word was anger. “You know just as well as I do that neither of us had any say in the matter. I don’t hate you for it; in fact, I’m unmoved one way or the other.” Not entirely the truth, but he could hardly figure out what it was he was feeling and thus ignored it completely.

     “Severus,”

     “ _ **Don’t**_.” He hissed, glaring up at the taller man. His hands balled up into fists to try and control the slight trembling that was threatening to enter his frame. “I don’t want excuses from you, I don’t want apologies, _I don’t want anything_. We are both guiltless, and you cannot deny that. You had no more control over your actions than I did.”

The older man inhaled as though to speak but Snape hissed and cut him off.

     “ _Oh you Alphas_ , all the same aren’t you? Acting as though you are less a slave of your instincts than us lower Omegas. _Bullshit_.” He glared into the other’s face, the space between them shrinking, their noses nearly tip to tip. “You can control the rut just as well as I can control the heat. Don’t try and fool yourself. Besides, you already confessed to your transgressions, fondling an unconscious man in his sleep,” He snorted. “how _honorable_ and dramatic of you, headmaster. I’m touched by your conscious,” He mocked. “You can tell yourself that you were in control, that you were capable of controlling your actions, that you told me out of the sheer moral need to confess your sins, but it’s a _lie!_ ” Snape drew back, suddenly aware of how close they’d become.

Chest heaving, he attempted to gather himself, voice returning to its usual level and volume, though it lacked a certain amount of venom.

     “You might have given me the option to return to my dreamless sleep, but we both know that I never would have chosen that. I could no less choose to let you _fuck_ me, than you yourself probably could to walk away willingly. It was _impossible_.” Severus shook his head moving towards the narrow hallway that lead to the two other rooms, pausing to glance back at the silent man. “What happened, happened. It’s over and done, and no amount of guilt can change that, so let it go. Now if you’ll excuse me, Headmaster, I’d like a bath before I start in on my preparations for the upcoming term.” And he walked down the hall without a glance back, only hesitating at the bathroom door for the briefest of moments; the sound of the hidden door to his quarters closing was enough to push him fully into the room and close the bathroom door behind him.


	4. Confused emotions

     It wasn’t until the last week of August that Snape became aware of the hurriedly approaching start of term; if it weren’t for the stacks of folders on his desk, all completed schedules and lesson plans for the new term, than he wouldn’t have been able to account for any of the lost time. He’d thoroughly dived into his work, preparing each and every lesson schedule with extreme detail; everything was covered, from the first years, up to the fifth years, and past to those few who might be joining his N.E.W.T. classes. He’d received the list from Minerva over a quick lunch in the staff room a few days earlier, and was rather surprised to see some of the names on the list. Two more students had achieved OWLs than the last year; of course, he wouldn’t praise them yet. He still had to see if they could handle the term work.

     Setting aside his quill and re-stoppering the inkwell he sat back in his seat and looked over the stacks of parchment. He was actually a bit surprised that he’d managed to get it all done a week early; of course, he usually got it all done a week early, however he’d assumed that taking a week for his heat would have put him back a bit.

The thought made him frown, and his thoughts turned unwillingly towards the Headmaster; he’d been doing his best over the last few weeks not to think of the Headmaster, in fact, he’d been doing his best to keep the other man out of his life for the time being all together. And, or so it seemed, the Headmaster was doing the exact same thing.

     Though Dumbledore rarely dined with the teachers save for during the school term, Snape couldn’t fail to notice that he hadn’t seen the man at all since their brief lucid conversation ( _or lack there off_ ) in this very living room. Twisting in his chair, Snape glanced around the torch lit room. It looked as it always had, as did his bedroom, which he’d repaired easily enough. Nothing had changed, and yet….

There was an unmistakable emptiness to his quarters that he couldn’t quite explain. Snape had always been fond of his privacy and his space, having to be dragged into social events; not necessarily because he didn’t like his coworkers, he did… as best as he could like them, he supposed. He certainly respected some of them enough not to argue when invited to share a cup of tea; or a scotch where Minerva was concerned.

Snape had done his best not to think of the Headmaster or of the events that had taken place between them; but eventually, his thoughts would turn towards the older man, and his mind return to think over the events that he’d rather forget.

     With a rather disgruntled sigh, he stood up from his desk, shoving the chair noisily back into place before heading towards the bathroom. Entering the room, he turned on the tap and put the plug in the drain, scrubbing at his hands as he let the basin fill up with steaming hot water. The water burned, and his skin turned pink, but he didn’t care, merely continued scrubbing viciously at the ink stains on his fingers.

     Once he’d gotten the ink off, he turned off the tap, and leaving the sink filled with steaming hot water, he marched back out of the room and towards his bedroom. He rummaged in his chest of drawers, pulling out a change of shirt before moving to his wardrobe and pulling out his vest and robes. Taking his clothes with him he returned to the bathroom, setting them in a bundle on the lid of the toilet before turning his attention back to the sink, fully intending to wash his face; catching his reflection in the mirror he paused just as the clock in his living room chimed eleven.

Blinking, as though startled, he glanced back to the clothes bundled on the toilet seat; he frowned at them before looking back at his reflection in the mirror. A line had formed between his brows, and a frown curled his lips. It was eleven-o-clock, Thursday evening, and he’d been fully prepared to change and take himself up to the Headmaster’s office. Exhaling slowly, his gaze still locked with that of his reflection, he let himself deflate a little, gripping the rim of the sink.

     He’d been preparing for late night tea, the late night tea that he’d been having with the Headmaster for the past five years; the late night tea he’d stopped attending for the last two weeks. Clicking his teeth in irritation at himself he bowed his head and braced himself against the sink. He’d prepare to go due merely to habit. He’d found himself doing the same thing last week, and the week before that.

The first Thursday evening after his heat, he’d actually dressed and made it all the way out of the dungeons and to the grand staircase before turning right back around returning to his quarters. And last week, he’d dressed and almost been out his door when he dragged himself back and distracted himself with writing out pop quizzes.  It was strange, not going up to the Headmaster’s office. They’d always gathered there, to drink, and talk. It was on those occasions, in the beginning, that Dumbledore would get his information from Snape, or personally question if he’d been taking care of himself; it had always annoyed Snape that Dumbledore would ask him if he’d been taking care of himself, he knew that the old man already knew the answer. It was just a ritual, a ritual where one would question, and the other would answer, or confess. A ritual neither had quite managed to shake; a ritual that had, over time, evolved into something almost social.

     Snape shook himself slightly, trying to force the urge to climb his way to the Headmaster’s office as he’d been conditioned to do out of his mind; hating that he wanted to, that he genuinely wanted to. The ritual of late tea with Dumbledore had given Snape something he’d never had in his life; _structure_.

Late tea was something that was expected of him, but not something necessarily unpleasant in nature. Something he had to do, for one reason or another, which would lead to either reward, or rebuke. He supposed it could almost be compared to a child who was expected to present his test results to his parents each quarter, and wait while his parents went over each mark; the child would be praised for the good marks, and disciplined for the bad marks.

He’d never had a structure like that when he was a child, not even while at Hogwarts. No one had ever shown interest in him in such a way, in the parental sense where they actually cared about him enough to try and school his actions. He supposed that late tea with Dumbledore, had always offered him a sense of comfort, a sense of safety. He would always return to that warm circular room, where he was assured ( _at least for the time being_ ) warmth and safety; something that had never been guaranteed to him before.

Even when he was broken, incapable of living for himself, whenever he’d become overwhelmed he’d always end up back in the Headmaster’s office. There was no hiding there, no secrets, no lies to be told and tales to be spun; that, in itself had been a comfort. Snape hated that he was having such a hard time breaking the pattern, hated that he wanted to go to the Headmaster’s office, hated that the Headmaster had not once called upon him.

     Dumbledore hadn’t once sent for him, or left any message inquiring as to why he hadn’t arrived for late tea, and Snape hated how insignificant that made him feel. Could Dumbledore merely go on about his life as though they had not been ritualistically meeting every week for the past five years? Could he possibly not care at all that Snape no longer went up to his office? Had their time spent together in that circular room meant nothing to the older man? Had Snape meant _nothing_?

     _‘I’ve got you, it won’t hurt anymore; I’ll take care of you.’_

     Snape flinched, grip tightening on the edge of the sink turning his knuckles white. _‘I’ll take care of you’_. That hadn’t been the first time that those words had been uttered by the headmaster; had he been foolish enough to believe the older man even from the beginning?

     _‘My precious Severus, beautiful, so beautiful, perfect, my lovely, lovely boy.’_

     Snape hissed, arms trembling slightly with the force of his grip upon the stone beneath his fingers. The words came unbidden into his mind, echoing softly at the forefront of his brain like a soft wind caresses a pond, sending smooth ripples across the surface of his memories.

     _‘Good boy.’_

     Snape growled and lashed out at the water in the sink, splashing it across the counter and onto the floor, some drenching his pant leg and shoes. Smacking the edge of the wet counter, he leaned over the basin, breathing heavily.

      “Damn it.”

 

*******

 

      Six-o-clock in the AM on Friday morning found Dumbledore in his office study, going over the list of things to be attended to before the start of term; rules to be implemented, rules to be gone over again, and a new list of banned items given to him by Filch. As Headmaster it was his duty to go over everything, check every detail, give his ‘go ahead’ or write out his reasons for ignoring, altering, or flat out refusing to negotiate on any item presented him. This is where McGonagall found him.

     “There you are.” She stated, and Albus was quite surprised at her sudden appearance; he’d missed her knocking completely. Framed in the doorway of his study she looked positively exasperated; floating at her side was a tray of food, and Albus suddenly recognized the exasperation in her tone and expression for what it was, _concern._

He did his best to look sheepish as he turned in his chair to face her, though he doubted he pulled it off if her thinned lips and flaring nostrils were anything to go off of.

     “Didn’t you hear me knocking, Albus?” She inquired, stepping down into his study, tray moving right along beside her.

      “I must admit that I missed it completely, Minerva. As you can see, I was rather invested in my work, and there is still a considerable amount of it that still needs doing before the week is up.”

     “Don’t give me any of that,” She snapped, frowning steely at him as she took the tray in her hands and set it down ( _perhaps a little harder than necessary_ ) on the desk. Shoving aside stacks of papers and books, she pushed the tray towards him before straightening up. “work or no work, you have to eat.”

Albus sighed; there would be absolutely no arguing with her. He could tell that she’d worked herself into a right state, and he personally found it exhausting to argue with her when she got like that.

     He really thought it quite a pity that Minerva had never had children; she would have made a fantastically fierce mother. He still mourned the loss of her late husband, Elphinstone, who despite the age difference, would have made a wonderful father; his dotting love for Minerva alone would have give him motivation enough to sire dozens of children had she desired them. Yes, it was such a pity that such a happy marriage had been cut short.

     “It is very kind of you to bring me up some food yourself.” He said cheerfully, pulling the tray a little nearer and spreading jam on his toast, if only to give the hovering woman a bit of a show; he honestly wasn’t very hungry. “Although, I could have simply requested something from the kitchens.” He pointed out, taking a bite of the toast as he glanced up at her. Her expression was still stern and her lips still thin.

     “Yes, but would you have?” She inquired, with the air of a woman who already knew the answer and was utterly exasperated by it. She had a fair point.

     “Alright, you win. Thank you for breakfast.” His tone was kind and genuine, but there was a fine hint of dismissal, one the woman didn’t fail to notice.

     “I’ll expect to see you for lunch, Albus. It would be nice if I didn’t have to trek myself up here again only to ensure it though.”

     “I’ll join you in your office if you would like.” Albus consented; taking another bite of his toast as he read over one of the paper’s that she’d pushed aside. This seemed to agree with her, for she turned to leave, though she didn’t get very far.

Hovering in the doorway, he could feel McGonagall watching him; could almost sense the hesitancy in her as she teetered on the edge of going and staying.

     “I don’t wish to snoop, Albus,” She began, and he looked up at her calmly. He could see the concern, the nervous curiosity, plainly etched into the lines of her face. “but I can’t help but notice, well,” She seemed to hunt around for what she wished to say, and made a slightly disquieted noise as she wrung her fingers together. When he didn’t speak, she let her loosely clasped hands fall in front of her, eyeing him with a mixture of weariness and concern. “I can’t help but feel as though something’s happened, Albus.” She eyed him, hopeful that he’d interrupt her, but when he didn’t she sighed. “Something has happened, hasn’t it? Between you and Severus.”

Albus couldn’t help but admire the woman before him, she’d hit the nail on the head, though he hadn’t doubted that she would for a second. Minerva had always been an extremely observant witch, with strong opinions, principles, and moral character. She’d also been Albus’s friend for a very long time, since her school days at Hogwarts, and knew him far better than most of the current teacher’s at Hogwarts.

     “I’m not blind Albus,” She stated baldly. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re hiding. I don’t want to know what’s happened, I think I’ve a pretty good guess, but I have to ask something,” She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply as though to steel herself, before opening her eyes and gazing firmly and steadily at him. “What are your intentions, if you have any, and do they involve Severus?” She asked, her expression leaving no room for dismissal. “Because I swear to God, Albus, if you intentionally do anything cruel to that boy I’ll—”

     “Admirable, Minerva, truly.” Albus praised. “But I can assure you, that I have no intentions where Severus is concerned, let alone intentions to hurt him; though I cannot say that I have not already done that.” A gleam of something came over the woman’s faintly lined face, and her lips parted, confusion and shock battling against suspicion and doubt.

     “Albus, you mean, you didn’t—”

     “I have done nothing that would, in any way, alter Severus’s life without his consent. Again, I cannot say that I have not hurt him.”

     Climbing back down into the study, Minerva approached him, looking wearily down at him.

     “Severus is an Omega, isn’t he?”

Albus remained silent, but his gaze never wavered from hers. She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her cheek, opening them again to look wearily around the crowded study.

     “I, I wondered, several times when he was a boy.” She stated quietly, more to herself than to him. “But I’d never come across any solid evidence, and when he came to work here,” She shrugged her shoulders slightly and shook her head, hand still cradled against her cheek. “he never showed any signs. It never crossed my mind again to wonder.” Her face turned to his, and their eyes met. “Until a few weeks ago.”

     “Where Severus is concerned, I can tell you nothing.” Albus stated, turning his attention back to the tray of food she had brought him; it looked even less enticing than it had before. “However, two weeks ago, I entered an early and unplanned rut. Though I attempted to be discreet, you no doubt caught wind of my scent before I could take the suppressant didn’t you?”

     “Yes, I think so. I didn’t know exactly what it was when I smelt it, but I had a theory.” She said with a nod. “I thought it would be stronger.” She mused quietly.

     “To you it would be nothing more than a passing  and rather faint enticing scent.” He said with a genuine smile up at her. “Though your husband maybe gone, my dear, your heart is still very much bonded to him, am I correct?” Minerva’s fingers twitched slightly, as though she’d gone to rub them across the back of her neck, but she resisted; her hand fell back to her side and she nodded.

     “Despite Elphinstone being just a Wizard, he didn’t love me less for my status as a Beta, and certainly did his best to make sure that I was comfortable with our arrangement.”

     “He was a good man.” Albus praised.

     “Yes. Yes he was.” She sighed, and reached forward to place her hand on Albus’s shoulder; he didn’t brush it aside, but merely looked up at her. “Albus, if you didn’t bond, you must be aware that even so, this could very well be hurting Severus.”

     “I am aware of the possibility, Minerva, but cannot say for certain, and thus, can do nothing unless otherwise requested to do so.” She opened her mouth as though to speak, but nothing came, and she quickly closed it, nodding her understanding. She patted Albus’s shoulder before turning and excusing herself. Albus returned his attention to his work, though he obediently nibbled at the breakfast she’d delivered for him; Minerva was an incredible woman.

 

*******

 

     The start of term was a blessing that Snape had rarely ever taken to heart, but now felt thoroughly thankful for; the distraction of children, though mostly annoying, was exactly what he needed to keep his mind focused. He couldn’t have stray thoughts about the Headmaster while attending to his teaching and Head of House duties; though meal times still remained a weak area of distraction.

Snape never ate breakfast in the Great Hall, and only occasionally joined a sparse group of teachers for lunch there, it was dinner that was the problem. The _entire_ school gathered under that enchanted ceiling for dinners, and it was the only meal the Headmaster ever took there. Snape did the best that he could. He sat as far from the Headmaster as he could, arriving at meals earlier than usual to be sure a seat at an acceptable distance.

He would engage in benign conversation with whoever he was seated next to if only to try and keep his thoughts from wandering towards the Headmaster. He was only successful some of the time.

Occasionally, over the first week of term, when Snape was unfortunate enough to be seated besides someone who he had no interest in speaking, nor who had interest in speaking with him, he would be forced to eat his dinner in silence, and of course his thoughts would begin to stray to the Headmaster. He’d even manage a glance or two, usually to find the Headmaster in deep conversation with either Minerva, or Pamona, both of whom he was very fond of; if Snape didn’t know better, he would have thought the man’s interests less than innocent, but he knew better; and he knew for a fact that the Headmaster was a total poof, and had been for his entire life.

Not that there was anything wrong with that of course, it just made the friendly conversations he’d spy at a glance infuriate him more. He couldn’t _exactly_ figure out why, though he was still bothered by the fact that the Headmaster hadn’t called upon him to inquire about their now nonexistent gatherings on Thursday nights. What was it that was bothering him, and why couldn’t he figure it out?

He’d gone over the entire situation in his mind several times, and had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t the sex that had bothered him; though perhaps it should have, having been fucked by a man who was seventy-plus-years his senior wasn’t exactly something that most would consider ideal or acceptable. Then again, when had he ever cared what society thought was acceptable? The brand on his left forearm was proof enough that he never had; though his association with the Headmaster had made him a bit more conscious over the years.

He’d even considered once or twice borrowing the Pensive so as to properly comb over the memories, to see if he’d missed something that could be the reason behind his confused mood; but he’d promptly dismissed the idea. Though the Pensive was the property of Hogwarts School, and any teacher was welcome to use it, to borrow it would mean having to ask the Headmaster, and he knew that Dumbledore would know why he wanted it; that was almost worse that having to ask the Headmaster for the damn thing in and of itself. No, Snape would have to figure it out the old fashioned way.

 

*******

 

      It wasn’t until mid November when Snape had no choice but to speak with the Headmaster. He’d been in the middle of double Potions with the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor Second years, telling off Nymphadora Tonks, and Charlie Weasley for almost setting off a fellow student’s cauldron when the class was interrupted. Glancing towards the back of the class, he spotted Daniel Graham, Slytherin’s current Prefect poking his head around the door.

     “Ten points from Hufflepuff Miss Tonks, and ten from Gryffindor as well Mr. Weasley, go sit down.” He snapped before turning his full attention towards the door, where the Prefect had slipped farther into the room. “Yes, what is it Graham?”

     “Uh, it’s a first year, Professor.” The Prefect looked sheepish, not that Snape was surprised; it had only been three months since Graham’s duties as a Prefect began, and this was the first time he’d ever had to call on Snape for anything.

     “Yes?”

     “Uh, well, she’s out in the corridor.”

     “Alright, I’ll deal with it. Graham come in and watch over the class, you have full permission to dock points or set detentions if they get out of line,” He shot a seething look towards the front of the class where Tonks had turned her hair a _hideous_ shade of yellow.

     “Yes Professor.” Stepping out into the corridor and closing his classroom door behind him, he looked down the stone passageway and spotted the first year in question. Crossing to her he noted that she’d obviously been crying and was making a strong attempt at stopping.

     She was a tiny little thing, small for eleven, with long wavy blonde hair, and dark brown eyes, which were puffy from crying.

     “What’s your name?” He inquired, squatting down to look at her a bit more closely. She sniffed and took several large gulps of air, but even so her reply came out stunted and quiet.

     “E-e-emalthia, Emalthia Stibbins.” She handed him a small slip of parchment, which he glanced at; it was a signed release from Professor Sprout. Tucking the parchment away in his pocket, he withdrew a handkerchief and handed it to her, glancing at the other crumpled piece of parchment in her hand.

     “What’s wrong Emalthia?” Snape was no stranger to First Year breakdowns, and found that it didn’t matter where the child came from, whether from a Wizarding family or a Muggle family, the separation from ones parents was, more often than not, a bit of a struggle. He was however, used to dealing with crying and upset First Years at the beginning of term, not three months in; which lead him to the conclusion, this was not about being homesick.

     “I got this l-letter from home,” She hiccupped, doing her best to collect herself but failing miserably as she held out the crumpled bit of parchment. Snape took it, and straightening back up read over it quickly; the tightness in his chest, which had been bothering him for months, constricted; though he was certain it was not due to his mysterious ailment. Handing the letter back to her he looked at her grimly.

     “Alright, that’s fine.” Crouching back down, he looked at her directly. “I’ll send notes to your other professors excusing you from class, but first we’d better go and talk to the Headmaster.” Her dark eyes widened slightly and she sniffed loudly; he wished that he were better equipped at comforting small children. He could discipline them, protect them, guide them with a steady but firm hand, but he could not for the life of him, offer them comfort in their times of need. “Come on,” Standing up straight again and feeling the blood flow back into his knees, he lead the girl out of the dungeons and towards the grand staircase.

     As they climbed the steps and he started slightly, she’d grabbed his hand. He glanced down at her, but she wasn’t looking at him; she was gazing wide eyed straight ahead of her, a mingled mix of anguish and fear etched onto her young slightly blotchy face. Children had touched him before, grabbed onto his arm, or backs of his robes, but they’d never held his hand… or rather, he’d never held theirs. It was strange, different, something he wasn’t accustomed to, but he didn’t withdraw his hand, instead, he loosely curled his fingers around her own, leading her up the stairs.

     “You know, there’s no reason to be frightened.” He assured voice quiet as they walked; a few of the paintings glanced their way, the occupants pointing and muttering to one another. It was probably out of mere curiosity and the desire for gossip, but it still grated on his nerves, and it took quite a bit of self control not to snap at the painted people to mind their own goddamn business. “The Headmaster is actually very nice,”

    “B-but,” She hiccupped. “This is going to ruin e-everything.”

    “No,” He frowned down at her. “How can you possibly think that?”

     “What if I have to l-leave? W-when would I c-com back? I’m going to g-get so far b-behind!” Pausing halfway along a deserted corridor, the soft din of occupied classrooms on either side of them, Snape turned and faced the girl, her hand still held in his.

     “Listen to me,” Crouching down again he looked at her straight on. “This isn’t going to ruin anything, alright? The Headmaster is a very kind, understand man, he’ll want what’s best for you.” She sniffed deeply and looked as though she was going to interrupt but he held up his free hand. “I’ve known the Headmaster for a very long time. He always has other people’s best interest at heart. That’s why he’s such a good Headmaster,” Straightening up, he gave her hand a small squeeze and began leading her along again. “did you know that he’s been named the Greatest Headmaster this school has ever seen?” He inquired, glancing down at her as they walked. She sniffed and shook her head, looking back up at him. He nodded. “He has, and Hogwarts has had a great deal of Headmasters, of all sorts and temperaments, and he’s beaten the lot.” Her dark eyes widened in wonder, silent tears still leaking out of the puffy red corners to stain her blotchy red stained cheeks.

     “Is, is he r-really as good as all that?”

     “He’s not just good, he’s better.” Snape stated with a curt nod as they approached the end of the corridor where the large gargoyle statue guarded the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. “Besides,” He gave her a slightly questioning coy look, squeezing her hand again as they came to pause in front of the gargoyle. “would your Head of House let anyone hurt you in anyway?” She sniffled again, wiping her nose on the handkerchief he’d given her and slowly shook her head. “That’s right. You’re part of Slytherin house, where our loyalty never wavers, and we are closer than family. You’re one of my snakes now; any hurt caused to you is as much an insult to me as any other Slytherin in any other year.” She gave him a small smile at that and turned her attention to the ugly stone gargoyle that was watching them keenly. “Peppermint toad.” He said simply, and the stone gargoyle climbed off of its plinth, revealing a rather deep niche in the wall where a spiraling stone staircase ascended up and out of sight.

Snape lead the girl to the steps, and began to climb, her close at his heals and refusing to let go of his hand. He heard the stone gargoyle climb back into place, and the wall solidify behind them. Once they’d reached the top of the stairs, they came to an oak wooden door; a great many voices could be heard on the other side of it, and Snape felt the girl slink closer to his side, no doubt still worried that the Headmaster would be displeased with her. Snape however was undaunted and rapped his knuckles against the old wood sharply. The voices within the room went silent, and a moment later they were bidden to enter.

     Crossing the threshold, Snape lead the little girl into the circular office; her puffy eyes widened and despite her obvious nerves she couldn’t quite restrain her desire to gape at everything, from the funny little silver instruments that emitted puffs of smoke on the spindly legged tables, to the snoring paintings of past Headmasters and Headmistresses upon the walls. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he was leading her, he probably would have felt incredibly uncomfortable walking around the tables and crossing to the large oak desk where the Headmaster was eyeing them curiously.

Only once he stopped did the girl’s wandering gaze return forward again. He felt her tense beside him and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

     “Headmaster we need to talk to you, it’s important.” He stated coolly, dark gaze darting to the quill in the Headmaster’s hand. Dumbledore’s brows rose slightly, blue gaze moving from Severus to the little Slytherin plastered to his side before setting his quill down.

     “Of course, please, have a seat.” He gestured to the plush chair opposite his desk. Snape glanced down to the little girl, pointing to the chair. She looked up at him and muttered something, to which he muttered a reply, and only then did the little girl release her grip on his hand and move to sit in the chair. Once she was situated, Dumbledore waved his wand and an identical chair appeared out of thin air beside hers. He looked expectantly at Snape, who scowled behind the girls back before taking his own seat.

     “Now, what is this about?” He asked, his gaze going to rest on the little girl, Snape looked at her too, but she’d gone white and didn’t appear to be willing to talk. Snape sighed and reached forward, taking the letter from her ( _she didn’t complain_ ) and handing it across the desk to Dumbledore who scanned it.

     “It appears that Miss Stibbins’s grandmother passed away yesterday morning. It would have taken her parents longer to get the news to her but a wizard neighbor let them borrow his owl; Miss Stibbins is a muggle born.” Dumbledore sighed, folding the letter once he’d finished reading it and handed it back across the desk.

     “So unfortunate, I’m very sorry for your loss Miss Stibbins.” He said somberly, folding his hands upon the desk while Severus tucked the letter into the front pocket of the girl’s school robes; she was still quite frozen in place. “Were you close with your grandmother?” Red-rimmed dark brown eyes darted towards Severus, who was leaning forward in his chair slightly, eyeing her silently; she sucked in her lips nervously, but at an encouraging nod from her head of house she returned her attention to Dumbledore.

     “Y-yes sir.” She managed to whisper, voice thick as fresh tears welled up at the corners of her eyes. “S-she lived w-w-ith us. She was s-s-so proud when P-professor McGonagall came to talk to my p-parents about m-m-my coming here.” Snape produced another handkerchief from an inside pocket of his robe and handed it to the girl, discarding the soiled one with a small puff of smoke. Dumbledore smiled sadly.

     “I’m sure she would have been very proud of you, my dear. Now,” Pulling a tin from his desk drawer he slid it across the desk to rest in front of her. “if you’d like a lemon drop, help yourself.”

     “R-really?”

      “Of course.” The girl gave Severus a glance before scooting forward in her seat and taking one of the yellow candies and putting it in her mouth. She sucked on it quietly, still sniffing occasionally. “I will personally arrange for your parents to pick you up at Kings Cross station tomorrow evening,” Dumbledore stated, pulling a clean piece of parchment towards him and re-dipping his quill.

    “W-what?”

Dumbledore paused and looked over his half-moon spectacles at the surprised look on the girls face.

     “Well my dear, surely you wish to attend your grandmother’s funeral?”

     “Y-yes, I do, but, I t-thought, what about?” She swallowed the remaining bit of lemon drop and coughed slightly. “What about my classes, and h-homework?”

     “You’ll be able to make up the work when you return, and I’m sure a friend, or perhaps one of the prefects could write up notes for the classes you’ll be missing.” Dumbledore stated, returning his attention to the parchment and beginning to write.

     “See?” Snape cocked a brow at her. “Don’t worry too much about falling behind, it’s far too early in the school year to be worrying about that. Now, why don’t you return to your dormitory and begin packing your things? I’ll send Heathers to help you after I’ve sent notes to the rest of your teachers.”

     “O-okay.” She slid from her seat, wiped her eyes and stared at Dumbledore, who glanced back at her and offered a consoling smile. Her own lips twitched upwards slightly. “Thank you Headmaster,” She glanced at Snape. “Professor.” And taking one last lemon drop turned and exited the office with only a faint hiccup.

     Snape watched her go before standing, intending to return to his classroom to see if Graham had survived, and to assure himself that his classroom and office was still in one piece; he was almost certain that Tonks would be the death of him, the girl was a _menace_.

     “Severus, please wait just a moment.” He froze at the door, nostrils flaring as his jaw clenched. He’d been afraid of this; at least while Miss Stibbins was with him he could use her as a foil against the Headmaster’s attention, now he found himself rather defenseless. Schooling his expression he turned part way around to gaze back at the man on the other side of the desk.

     “Yes, Headmaster?” He inquired voice cold and indifferent. The other man surveyed him for a moment, those blue eyes seeming to peer clear through to his core and making the hairs on his arms stand on end.

     “Do be sure to take great care in assigning someone to take notes for Miss Stibbins, Severus. It would be quite unfair for her to return and have nothing to go on while trying to make up her marks.”

Snape’s jaw tensed and he could feel his blood pressure rising, but he was quite proud of the fact that he managed not to snap back at the other man; why should he give him the satisfaction?

     “Of course, sir.” He hissed quietly, and turning sharply back to the door swept out of the office, his anger bubbling over into rage as he marched down the spiral stone staircase; part of him couldn’t understand why he was so angry, but another part of him, a very small part that he kept buried very, very deep down inside his mind understood all too well.

 

*******

 

     The weekend that followed his first face-to-face encounter with the Headmaster was the first weekend where he had no detentions to overlook, and only a medium sized stack of essays and tests to grade; if he trusted his Head boy and girl more he’d have them go over the stacks for him, but despite having proven themselves trustworthy, he couldn’t quite bring himself to permit them near the homework; there was, after all, always that chance they’d try and give credit where credit was not due. Spending most of the morning, and a good portion of the afternoon grading the essays ( _he’d leave the tests for later_ ), Snape decided that fresh air was in order; he needed to get out of the castle, clear his head enough so he could properly tackle the problem at hand: whatever it was that he was feeling. It was a big problem, but not so big that he didn’t doubt that some fresh air and a drink wouldn’t help take the edge off.

So, at half past four-thirty in the afternoon, bundled up in his thicker winter robes, Snape left the castle and steadily marched his way through the grounds, out the gates, and down the snow covered trail that lead down to the village of Hogsmead. The snow was still powdery, the ground still squishy from all of the rain they’d gotten at the end of October; but there was a sharp nip to the air, and Snape could smell that the first big snow storm was on its way. Soon Hogwarts would be covered in a thick blanket of snow.

     Hogsmead was relatively quiet, and Snape was glad for it; he never wandered down into the village during Hogsmead weekends; he dealt with students enough as it was, and never felt up to tormenting himself with mingling with them outside of the classrooms when he could avoid it. It didn’t really help that most of the seventh years barely took him seriously; if it weren’t for his rather nasty reputation they probably would have openly expressed their lack of respect for him. Being the youngest professor at Hogwarts had its major drawbacks, and being only eight-years-older than most of the seventh years was one of them.

     When he’d arrived at his destination and entered into the quiet of The Hog’s Head, he shook the powdery snow from the hems of his robes and glanced around the run down bar. It was just as dark and grimy as it had always been, with bits of dirt and straw building up in the corners of the room. The sound of hooves and faint bleating could be heard somewhere over head, and the crackle pop of the low fire was loud enough to drowned out the hushed conversation of the rather— _questionable patrons_.

Snape ignored a small group of wizards in the corner who’d stopped whispering amongst themselves to leer in his direction, crossing to the dirty bar and leaning against it. He could hear the shuffling movements of the bar man in the back room, but rather than call him out he waited patiently. As he waited he picked up the muffled whispering from the wizards in the corner, having picked back up on their conversation.

     The Hog’s Head, though a rather disreputable and shady establishment, and well off the beaten path and thus rarely frequented by Hogwarts students, was by no means a mystery to several of the Hogwart’s Professors. Snape was not the only Professor to seek out its dark and quiet, though he was perhaps the only one who frequented it during the daylight hours. He supposed the question as to what he might be doing in such a place was just more fuel to his nasty reputation, and if it aided in keeping the students on their best behavior around him who was he to complain?

     Glancing over his shoulder at the sound of the door opening he watched the small group of wizards slink out of the bar, closing the door behind them with a snap. He scoffed and returned his attention to the bar; he was probably also the only person who frequented the bar and did not feel the need to hide his face in anyway.

     “What’re you doing here?”

Snape turned his attention to the shadowy doorway behind the bar as the bar man entered. He straightened up, hands still resting on the grimy bar and did his best to remain relaxed; though he could feel his nerves tightening and the muscles in his lower back tensing slightly. The bar man stepped up to the bar, facing Snape from across it with a rather grumpy and dismissive look.

     The bar man was considerably taller than Snape, tall and lean, with long stringy pepper-grey hair, and familiar but cold blue eyes, which seemed to peer through him over the tops of dusty spectacles. Snape felt the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stand on end at the familiar sensation of being x-rayed, but merely leered back, refusing to break eye contact with the older man.

He was not _afraid_ of Aberforth Dumbledore per say, though the man did make him feel a bit uneasy; he radiated a dark chaotic aura, static magic crackling around him subtly. His aura was not as powerful as his older brother’s, but he was also not as good at keeping it contained; nor did he have his brother’s benign personality that helped make other’s comfortable around him.

Aberforth might not have been as talented as his brother, or as powerful, but Snape had a restrained respect for the man, knowing that should they have ever gone toe to toe in a duel, it was very likely that he would be lucky to walk away alive. Of course, this respect also stemmed from the fact that the older man had once bodily removed him from the bar, and he was not likely to ever forget that unbreakable steel like grip.

     “Merely looking for a quiet place to hide away from the brats up at the school.” He sneered. Aberforth snorted, pulling a dirty mug from under the sink and began cleaning it with an equally dirty rag, his gaze never wavering from Snape’s.

      “Can’t you do that by locking yourself up in your office?”

Snape’s lip twitched slightly, eyes narrowing; their encounters were always like this. Aberforth was not like his brother, he did not trust Snape; and despite the fact that his bar often was the location of shady dealings, that did not change the fact that Aberforth was no fan or friend of Death Eaters; ex or otherwise.

     “Give me a firewiskey,” Snape’s tone was clipped, but Aberforth didn’t refuse him, merely narrowed his harsh blue gaze before pulling a clear bottle with an equally clear liquid from under the bar and sliding it across the dirty surface. Snape’s lips curled in a twisted fake smile, his own dark eyes narrowing as he slipped the money onto the counter. “thank you. I am not your brother, Aberforth; it is not my custom to merely lock myself away in my office when things become unpleasant.” He spat, reaching up to grab the bottle and retreat to some corner to drink and think.

But before he could withdraw, the bar man’s hand locked in a vice like grip around his wrist. Snape started, spitting out a vicious threat as his fingers numbed around the bottle and he was jerked forward; forced to lean slightly over the counter top.

     “Funny,” Aberforth hissed back, cold blue eyes narrowing as he pulled Snape’s hand closer, his fingers locked firmly over the thin wrist, gaze never leaving the other’s face. In a flash Snape had his wand in his other hand and pointed directly in the other’s face, snarling at being touched.

     “Let go!” He snapped, pulling back on his arm slightly but with no luck, the other’s grip was too tight.

Aberforth didn’t even flinch at the wand directed at his eye, but merely sniffed pointedly.

     “You smell like him.”

     “What?” Snape spat, not exactly sure what he’d heard, too focused on trying to wring his wrist out of the other man’s grip; feint sparks were beginning to spit from the tip of his wand, lighting up the older man’s face and reflecting pure white on the lenses of his glasses.

     “My brother, you smell like him.” Aberforth stated, tilting his head to the side slightly, the blue sparks tingling against his skin but otherwise not bothering him in the slightest. “And I don’t just mean you smell of his cushy office, scented smokes, or muggle sweets.” A slight gasp escaped Snape as Aberforth yanked his arm a little farther and he found himself nearly nose to nose with the other man, cold blue eyes boring into his as though in an attempt to plunge into his mind; something that Snape knew the other man could not do but startling just the same. “You smell like him.”

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about, now let me go.” Snape snapped, though his voice had lost its volume and most of the venom had disappeared with his saliva; all he could do was swallow against the dry lump that had formed in the back of his throat.

     “Don’t play me for a fool, boy. Don’t you think that I’d recognize my own brother’s scent? A scent that I grew up around?” Aberforth sniffed again and Snape’s fingers twitched in his grasp. “I only ever smelt it this strong once before,” Aberforth mused, something Snape couldn’t read crossing cold blue eyes before he suddenly found his wrist released.

Withdrawing a few paces from the bar he rubbed at his wrist, eyeing the older man with weary anger. Aberforth had straightened up and was eyeing him with an unnerving look of anger, disgust, and what was unmistakably pity; and Snape found that he hated him for it.

     “He took you didn’t he?” Aberforth asked, though there appeared to be no doubt in his mind as to what the answer would be. “So what are you? You smell too sweet to be a Beta, but to faint to be an Omega.” Snape’s nostrils flared in indignation and he squared his shoulders, wand still held firmly by his side.

     “How dare you—” the words caught in his throat and he huffed, puffing up like an adder. “I do not appreciate that insinuation, and how dare you ask—”

     “Insinuation nothing, you reek of him!” Aberforth snarled back, slamming his hand down on the counter top. “Can’t you smell it? It’s practically embedded in your skin!”

Snape felt the beginnings of panic flaring up in the bottom of his chest, the tightening around his heart seeming to constrict to an almost painful level. He glared at the older man, though he was sure what little color he had in his face had drained away.

     “Nothing happened.”

     “Oh, so you’re saying he didn’t mount you like a beast?”

Snape blinked at the crude use of terms but found himself too tongue tide to snap back, and all that he managed was a weak reply.

    “H-he didn’t—”

     “Didn’t knot you like some bitch in heat?”

     “HE SERVICED ME!” Snape shouted, the color rising back into his face as he glared at the man from across the bar; his chest heaving as all of the anger and confused emotions that had been twisting and simmering beneath his skin bubbled up inside him. “He discovered that I was an Omega and he serviced me, that’s all. It was an accident, an unpleasant happenstance that neither of us could have foreseen.”

     “Is that what he told you?”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?”

     “You should know by now that my brother is a liar.”

     “If you claim that than I am lead to believe that you don’t know your brother very well, Aberforth.”

     “Oh you think I don’t know my own brother? It would be just like him to—”

      “I’m the one who said that, the one who told him that. It was an unfortunate mistake that neither of us could have avoided. Nothing more, nothing less. His services were rendered, and we’ve moved on.” Snape said coldly, his fingers loosening around the wand at his side, his breathing beginning to even out as he fought to regain control of himself.

      “Than you’re a liar too.” Aberforth stated calmly, his gaze softening slightly, replaced with his usual grim features; the disgust vanishing from his blue eyes, though the pity remained where it was. “If you know my brother so well, at least as well as you say you do, than you should know that this was not a simple accident.”

      “You can’t be implying that he set out for this to happen,” Snape said frowning. “He didn’t even know that I was an Omega until he came upon me.”

      “I’m sure he didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did happen, and I can tell you this, he doesn’t regret it. He isn’t sorry for what he did, there’s no remorse there, no remorse in his heart. Albus Dumbledore is a man incapable of feeling remorse.”

      “I didn’t want his remorse, or his apologies.” Snape spat his voice quiet. “I don’t care if he’s sorry or not, I’m not sorry, I don’t care that it happened, or that it was him. He serviced an Omega, as an Alpha might do, that’s all.”

Aberforth surveyed him for a long silent moment, the air taught with tension between them. His lips curled slightly, into an almost mocking, knowing smile before he nodded; he picked up his dirty mug again and resumed cleaning it as he studied Snape.

      “You tell yourself whatever makes you sleep at night, if you are indeed sleeping; are you, Snape? Or do you find yourself more often than not up late stalking the corridors for wayward students? Do you find yourself pouring all of your energy into going over tests and essays instead of sleeping?”

Snape felt the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stand on end again, a chill seeming to creep over his rage flushed skin; the other man’s words seemed to sink into him slowly like the torturous blade of a knife.

      “Or do you dream of him when you sleep? Do you remember any of it? Probably not, I’ve heard the heat is brutal on the mind; to think, such a brilliant and cunning mind as yours to be rendered practically useless by your biology.” He scoffed, setting the mug aside and pulling up another from behind the bar. “You must remember the smell, his smell. Do you dream about it? How does his scent differ between us? Does it smell as bitterly stagnant to you as it does to me? Or is its memory sweeter?”

      “SHUT UP!”

Aberforth chuckled, eyeing the dark young man who was practically seething with rage, frame trembling slightly as he fought against the urge to curse him; he could practically see the desire in the other’s red tinged face, practically feel the hate hammering against the fathomless black eyes; almost see the way his own image seemed to distort in their reflection.

      “Are you really angry at me, for putting into words everything you’re feeling? Everything that you’re hating about yourself? Everything that keeps you up at night because you can’t stand the fact that you remember the way he smelt, the sensation of his touch? Or are you angry at me because I drag his name through the mud?”

      “SHUT UP!” Snape bellowed, raising his wand again and opening his stance. “Shut up, right now.”

      “Or what?” Aberforth asked rising his brows as he set the second mug aside and rested his palms against the bar top, eyeing the younger man as the air around them seemed to become electrified; it wouldn’t be hard to block any hex or curse the man threw at him, nor would it take him more than a second to reach his own wand.

      They faced off against one another, unspent magic tingling just beneath their skin, concentrating in their fingertips and tingeing the air around them for just a moment before the door to the bar opened and the heavy atmosphere that had come over them broke. Snape lowered his wand and blinked, taking a gulp of air and taking a step back as though stepping out of a dream; his heart was racing and his mind felt jolted, as though a bucket of ice water had been thrown over him. Aberforth had picked up his second mug again and was cleaning it.

A wave of cold hit Snape’s back as the door was closed and he turned, not even glancing to see who had entered the bar as he headed for the door.

      “He might not have done anything, and you might not have meant it to be anything, but it is.” Aberforth called conversationally from behind the bar, and Snape stopped at the door, hand on the knob. “You can’t deny the truth, the obvious truth. He might not have done it, but you certainly did something, whether you meant to or not.” Snape hesitated but didn’t turn to look at the other man, merely walked back out into the cold air, slamming the door behind him as he went.

 

*******

 

      By the time that Snape had returned to the school, the last classes before dinner were just getting out, flooding the corridors with students; he could hear the thunderous rumble of hundreds of feet pounding the floors above, and the distant hum of hundreds of voices, all sound waspish to his ears. Luckily, only a handful of students were on the ground floor, and he had no trouble whatsoever crossing the entrance hall towards the staircase that lead down into the dungeons. Here too he only crossed paths with a few students, all of whom plastered themselves against walls or slipped into alcoves to let him pass; he didn’t notice. In fact, he didn’t notice much of anything until he’d crossed over the threshold into his own quarters and closed the door. Only then did he become keenly aware of the hot flush that was burning his body and the anger and rage bubbling in his veins and buzzing in his brain.

      Aberforth’s words seemed to repeat in his mind, over and over, each echo more mocking than the last. Growling, he undid his cloak and let it fall to the floor, crossing to the bathroom and locking himself in it; the candles all flickered into life, casting the room in a warm yellow glow.

_‘do you dream of him when you sleep?’_

_‘You must remember the smell, his smell. Do you dream about it?’_

_'is its memory sweeter?’_

      Filling the basin of the sink with cold water Snape splashed himself a few times, trying to bring down the temperature in his face; but even as he leaned over the sink, bracing the counter with his hands, the younger Dumbledore’s words seemed to only grow louder in his head.

_‘ Are you really angry at me, for putting into words everything you’re feeling? Everything that you’re hating about yourself? Everything that keeps you up at night because you can’t stand the fact that you remember the way he smelt, the sensation of his touch? Or are you angry at me because I drag his name through the mud?’_

With a hiss, and a gulp of air, Snape plunged his head into the sink basin, sinking till the cold water reached his ears, and his nose nearly brushed the plug.

     The cold water was a shock to his system, the rest of his body reacting to it by spreading with goose pimples, but he remained where he was, doubled over with his head in the sink. He tightened his grip on the edge of the basin, blunt nails digging against the stone as his throat seemed to stretch with air bubbles that wished to force their way into his mouth.

_‘you certainly did something, whether you meant to or not.’_

Snape’s jaw clenched as small air bubbles escaped his nose, and the compressed air in his lungs began to burn; his cheeks bulged slightly as the air in his throat forced its way into his mouth, leaving his throat feeling tighter than usual.

He could remember the last time his throat had felt so tight, so raw; remember when his lungs burned due to improper breathing; he’d had his lips stretched over Dumbledore’s shaft. He could almost _feel_ the pulse of the aroused flesh against his throat.

Straightening up with a loud gasp and cold water splashing down his front he let out a strangled swear as he pushed soaked strands of black hair out of his face. The memory of sucking the Headmaster’s dick had stirred a feint heat to pool in his stomach, and his own flesh stirred with a minute interest.

Spluttering and grumbling Snape exited the bathroom, dripping his way to his bedroom where, instead of simply drying his robes, he stripped them off and through them bad temperedly in the corner of the room.

Shivering, and only covered in his dark gray pants, he moved to the wardrobe in search of dry robes when he was distracted by his reflection.

He was quite a sight standing there covered in gooseflesh and water droplets, naked save for the thin piece of material covering his half hard erection. He frowned down at the bulge in his pants but returned his gaze to his reflection and grimaced. He looked like a drowned rat; all lean gangly limbs, sallow skin, and zero muscle definition or tone. He certainly didn’t pose an intimidating sight with his clothes off, nor a very appealing one.

But before he could become any more morose over his appearance a thought rose unbidden to the forefront of his mind; more a sensation really, an inkling, rather than a thought.

 _Dumbledore had seen him naked._ More than seen, he’d _touched_.

And Snape’s cock twitched feebly against the confines of his pants, the hairs on the back of his arms and on his legs standing on end due to more than the cold. Dumbledore had seen, and touched, and not timidly, or with any hint of disgust; he’d almost hungrily pressed his hands to Snape’s skin, feeling with purpose every sharp angle and fleshy bits.

_‘certainly did something, whether you meant to or not.’_

Snape rose a hand and ran his fingers over the back of his neck, over the bonding gland that remained just as invisible and just as smooth as it ever had; he was certain that Dumbledore had not marked him, claimed him, bonded with him; and yet…

Frowning a little harder Snape closed the wardrobe doors and turned his back on it, his hand sliding from his neck down to his chest where he felt his own heart beating steadily against his ribs; he let his other hand slide across his stomach and down to the hem of his pants, fingers only barely dipping beneath the elastic. His cock twitched, and his brows furrowed harshly.

Could he be certain that ‘ _something_ hadn’t happened between them? That something, something minor, something small, something undetectable to them had occurred during their time together?

Snape’s fingers dipped a little lower, the tips brushing over the fine line of coarse hair, his cock hardening further but straining to lengthen against his pants, causing an almost pleasant ache. _Had something happened?_


	5. Revelations and Shotty things

     Snape had never been an overly sexual creature, even in his youth. He’d heard the other boys touching themselves in the dormitory at night, heard their rapid breathing, the rustle of bed clothes or blankets, the smothered cries as they orgasmed dry, or spent their seed for the first time. It had never stirred anything more than his curiosity. And he’d been curious, genuinely.

He’d wondered why they touched themselves, why they waited until the cover of darkness, the hangings drawn around their beds. Wondered why they tried to quiet the noises they made, wondered why they seemed so shy about something that they so obviously enjoyed doing. Snape could understand partially; ones genitals were one’s own business, not something to be flashed about in public, he knew that. And yet, he couldn’t think of any reason one might not simply touch their own privates for their own pleasure, and he certainly couldn’t think of why one would be ashamed of that.

The four other boys who Snape had shared a dorm with for the seven years of their educations enjoyed masturbating, and as they got older, though they grew a little less shy, there was still an air of shame; which the other boys often tried to cover with bravado. They’d touch themselves, and once or twice Snape was certain they’d touched each other; he’d never asked, nor did he really care, but he was sure that at least two of his dorm mates had at one time mutually shared their nightly experiences.

They’d sneak other boys who were in a dorm above or below theirs in for a late night snog or wank, still desperate to be quiet; or they’d sneak out to no doubt join a girl for a quick shag. Snape honestly never saw the appeal. He’d tried masturbating a few times, but he mostly found the whole thing rather tedious and frustrating rather than pleasurable.

He’d also found over his teenage years, that unlike his dorm mates, he didn’t become aroused while looking at attractive witches, or handsome wizards; the fire simply refused to light. It wasn’t that he didn’t think that the witch or wizard in question wasn’t attractive or provocative in their own right, they were, and he could certainly see that, they just didn’t do anything for him. He knew that part of the lack of stimulation was probably due to the suppressants, and yet he couldn’t help but feel slightly broken.

Even while on suppressants, Alphas, Betas, and Omegas like himself could and often did lead very active sexual lives; so why couldn’t he? It wasn’t as though he were really broken, just a bit different, and considerably confused. He wasn’t entirely without a sexual drive, he would, on occasion get erections, but they were all random, and would usually go aware if ignored thanks to the suppressants in his system. He attempted a wank once or twice during such an occurrence, but he found, yet again, that the whole thing was just rather tedious.

It wasn’t until he’d moved into Lucius’s home that he accepted that he was not like other men; his sex drive was extremely low maintenance, something that Lucius had assured him was perfectly fine, and that Snape shouldn’t let himself feel pressured into sex just because other people were having it. Sex, as Lucius had put it, was supposed to be pleasurable, fun, something that you did because you enjoyed it; advice Snape had taken to heart.

     Occasionally, merely for the enjoyment of the act itself, Snape would join Lucius and his friends, who had back before Lucius had married, gotten together to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh; made more pleasurable Lucius had said, by the social interaction of a group. Snape had never slept with any of them, but he’d attended, he’d watched. Being a talented potioneer and rather enjoying experimenting, he’d often supply lubricants with interesting affects, or draughts to heighten or twist ones senses. He was always on hand whenever these were in use.

He’d observe the sexual acts of the other men, and appreciate the attractiveness of their bodies as they moved together, but nothing would ever stir in his own belly; but that was okay, he enjoyed himself nonetheless. It was at one of these ‘ _social gatherings_ ’ that Snape had first put Lucius advice to practice. He’d denied ( _as he did every time_ ) to engage in intercourse with any of them, though he’d willingly, and enthusiastically offered his mouth to Lucius; shock had caused the blonde man pause, but with some assurance he’d accepted the offer, and Snape enthusiastically sucked him down.

Blow jobs were the only sexual act Snape had ever done, and usually only when a certain mood struck him; he never could quite call it randieness, because he got no physical pleasure out of the act itself, though he did enjoy it.

 

     Slipping his fingers from his pants, he crossed to his bed and stretched out across the covers on his back. He gazed steadily at the stone ceiling, his heart beating steadily against his ribs, while his cock throbbed achingly between his legs. The thought of sucking Dumbledore’s dick had caused a bodily reaction, and Snape was curious as to why. He’d sucked cock before, from physically more attractive wizards and never gotten hard; never even stirred. So why was it, after years of confusion and questions, and eventual acceptance, did he get hard at the mere memory?

Relaxing against the covers, he breathed deeply, clearing his mind for a moment or two before deciding upon a course of action. He began thinking of Lucius, how physically attractive the man was, and how he’d enjoyed sucking the other man’s cock when they were younger. He did his best to remember each instant, the sensations, the feelings and thoughts. But as he did, he could feel the heat pooling in his gut begin to cool, and that physical sense of frustrated disappointment begin to descend. As much as he’d enjoyed those times with Lucius, the memories of the man did nothing to fuel the fire.

Taking a few more deep breaths, doing his best to not let himself fall into the grips of the frustrated disappointment, he cleared his mind again. And only once all memory of Lucius Malfoy was erased did he turn his thoughts to the Headmaster; but not to their time shared during his heat and the few things he could remember, but to other memories.

     _He couldn’t take another second, he felt as though he were suffocating. His clothes, his robes, his very skin felt far too tight, to restraining. He felt the urge to lash out, punch the nearest object, feel his knuckles shatter against wood or stone; felt the desire to bash his head against the wall, to kick, to scream, to releasing something, ANYTHING, anything to make the suffocating tightness going away._

_Marching as calmly as he could, though his gate was rather fast, he wandered the corridors, completely oblivious to any and all around him. He wanted to tear at his skin, rip it away from the bone; he felt as though the only way he’d feel better was to shed his skin and break his bones. Only once he was standing in the middle of Dumbledore’s study did he become aware of his surroundings. Blinking, he looked around, wondering vaguely how he’d gotten there from his last classes down in the dungeons; had he even dismissed his last class?_

_With only a few moments of silence after becoming aware of his surroundings did the overwhelming sense of suffocation overwhelm him. With a frustrated cry that startled the phoenix who’d been perched overhead, Snape could no longer fight against the urges, but being unwilling to damage any of the Headmaster’s things lashed out solely at himself._

_He spun in a chaotic and confused manner, tearing at his robes and clothes, seams ripping, buttons flying, but not enough. He still couldn’t breathe! Still couldn’t think! Flinging himself into the nearest corner, back ramming sharply against the corner of a bookshelf, he sank with uncontainable cries of frustration, agitation, anger, and violence. He ripped at his hair, the collar of his shirt, banging the back of his head against the bookcase as unkind voices and bad memories began to claw their way up, out of the murky places where he’d buried them; they rose unwelcome into his mind, only fueling the destruction of his own soul that he desired._

_He remained there, a clawing growling thing, unaware of the cries of the disturbed phoenix or the shouts of confused headmasters and headmistresses who could not see him in the study, but could hear him. He was unaware of everything save for the tightness of his own skin, and the cold cruel voices in his head, until…._

     _“Severus.” The voice was gentle, but the hands holding his own at bay, keeping them from causing any more damage were firm, unyielding. He struggled, but the hands kept him in place, and the voice called to him as though over a distant sea; calling him back to shore. “Severus, don’t.” He was gasping, his heart pounding painfully in his chest, his head feeling both light and heavy as he became aware of the chaos of noise around him; long since dead headmasters and headmistresses cried out to know what was going on, and the phoenix cried woefully above them. “Severus stop, you can’t go on with this destructive behavior,” the reproach was gentle, but it was enough to draw his attention to the man holding onto him._

_Dumbledore was kneeling before him, holding his arms away from his body, face a little hard, brows furrowed; but his gaze was steady, certain as he studied Snape’s face. There was something anchoring about those eyes._

_“Where are you?”_

_Snape gasped, and choked as he tried to speak, having to swallow to get the words out of his constricted throat._

_“I can’t get out, I can never get out. Trapped.” He spoke desperately, as though at any moment the words would be silenced, as though he would be strangled by his own skin, crushed by his own memories. “I try, I want out, I’ve always wanted out, suffocating,” He jerked against the other man, wanting desperately to thrash, to lash out; he’d hurt the other man if he had to, if only to be released so that he could hurt himself. “I can’t breathe, I’m going to die!” he cried, panic written across his face, the voices in his head growing louder, crueler._

_Flashes of images began to flutter at the edges of his vision, battering against their prisons and his crumbling shields._

_“Severus, shush,” Those ancient, powerful, steadfast hands were gripping the sides of his head now, anchoring him more physically and drawing his attention. “You’re not trapped, you did get out. You got out,” Dumbledore stated, voice firm, and Snape latched onto his wrists, clinging to the periwinkle blue material as though his life depended on it. “You’ve escaped, you’ve gotten out. They can’t hurt you anymore.”_

_“But…”_

_“No buts, listen to me, Severus. Listen to me, look at me.” It was unbearable to look into those blue eyes, but once he did he found he couldn’t look away. Dumbledore’s gaze was steady, his hands sliding down to grip slightly trembling shoulders. “You’re safe. You’re at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you are Head of Slytherin house, and Professor of Potions. You are safe, no one can hurt you now. You are a free man, a man who has made his choices, and ultimately chose to live for the good.”_

_A stuttering exhale escaped him as the voices grew dimmer, his mind focusing solely on the words of the man kneeling before him. The man he knew that he could trust, a man who had had every right to kill him but instead had given him his trust._

_“H-headmaster….”_

_“Shush now, Severus. I want you to relax, breathe deeply, and clear your mind. You are safe here, no one will hurt you. You will not die, not now that you have reason to live. Can you remember that reason, Severus?”_

_It took a moment, and though he could almost physically ‘feel’ the reason to keep living, he couldn’t find the words, and cast helplessly around for them. “You have to keep living, Severus, for Lily, for Lily’s son, for her memory. You promised to honor her.”_

_“Y-yes.” Snape felt himself go limp against the bookcase, his head drooping slightly as he gradually began to come back to himself, his body feeling exhausted and weary. “I made a promise too, Severus. Do you remember what my promise was?”_

_He lifted his head and once again looked into those steady blue eyes, feeling the anchoring weight of them as they gazed unwaveringly at him. All he could do was nod. “You remember? I promised to take care of you, Severus. And I will, you can trust me on that. Now, clear your mind let me help you stabilize your barriers.” He nodded again, and closed his eyes, feeling the other’s mind press gently and carefully against the most outer wall of his barriers, stabilizing them so that he could begin rebuilding._

 

     There were several memories like that, and though he was quite ashamed of them, he went through each and every one of them, following their rabbit trail of panic, calming assuring words, and a quickly following sense of calm. Dumbledore had helped him many times keep the bad memories at bay in the beginning, when he was still broken, unequipped to handle anything one might consider remotely normal.

Dumbledore had been kind, but firm. A buoy in the chaos he’d slipped into. He was ashamed of these memories, but addicted to these times with Dumbledore. He’d never had anyone who so willing gave of themselves to steer him, keeping him from wandering off the path.

     When Snape had changed sides, and become spy for Dumbledore, the dangers had been astronomical; he knew, that in those first days, Dumbledore hadn’t held much stock in him, no doubt thought he’d be killed off right away, but he wasn’t. Snape had quickly proved himself a capable spy, and a fantastic actor. His natural talent for Occlumency, plus his years of practicing the art had paid off, and the Dark Lord never had a clue as to his true loyalties; not to Dumbledore, no not back then, but to Lily.

Lily was his driving force, that distant beacon of all things good and right in the world. When that light was extinguished, he crumbled; with no beacon, no lifeline to guide him back from the dark places he’d so foolishly wandered, he saw no hope, no reason to keep going. What had he hoped? That the Dark Lord would really spare her? It was a childish hope, and he’d known it. The Dark Lord was not so kind, not even to one he trusted as much as Snape. Had he hoped that Dumbledore, the most powerful Wizard in the world could protect her? Yes, he’d hoped it, believed it; if anyone could certainly he could! But he’d been wrong. They’d all let someone slip through their fingers, slip behind their barriers, and they’d all paid the price.

     Dumbledore had convinced him to live, harshly, cruelly; oh how he knew how to manipulate him, Dumbledore with his soft words, carefully pulling at every fragile heart string and good memory. It was stupid, and he still thought so; protecting Lily’s son. The Dark Lord was gone, the boy was with his family ( _part of Snape pitied the boy for that_ ), he would be safe. But still he’d agreed, agreed because with this promise, with this agreement, Dumbledore had pointed out a small spark of hope in the distance; it was a long way away, simply a pinprick of light on the horizon, but he wanted to reach it, needed to reach it. Dumbledore had offered him something else, beyond protection, work, and freedom; he’d offered up a second chance at hope, at redemption.

With the Dark Lord gone, Snape had found it extremely difficult to function; when he’d broken, all of him had broken; and even after agreeing to live, to move on, something’s inside of him hadn’t quite healed. He found that he couldn’t properly contain his barriers, and memories would occasionally slip to the forefront of his mind without his permission. He found that he couldn’t school the waves of panic that would descend upon him out of nowhere. He’d lost his grip on the control he’d worked so hard for; and no matter how he tried, how he struggled, it seemed impossible to regain it.

But Dumbledore had been there, to steady him, and aid him as he worked towards fixing those parts of himself; the man had said that he thought that he might be suffering from a form of PTSD, unable to cope with it now that he was in an environment where he was virtually safe. Snape didn’t know if that was the case or not, and he didn’t care; he just wanted to regain control.

It took two years. Two years to re-master his control over his emotions, and be able to sustain his mental barriers without aid. Even five years later he wasn’t completely better; he doubted that he ever would be again. So he’d been forced to come up with new methods of self protection; self protection that took the form of an extremely outwardly nasty disposition.

He’d always been withdrawn, sullen, and a bit snappish towards people he didn’t know, but he’d gone beyond that now. Now he was nasty towards everyone, anyone, unless they could prove themselves. Very few actually managed it, because why bother trying? Why bother working to get to know him? He was just a nasty young man, with a murky past. He wasn’t worth getting close too.

But a few had succeeded; a few had been stubborn enough to work at it. McGonagall had been particularly stubborn about it. He still wasn’t exactly sure as to why she’d been so stubborn, but he’d decided to let it go; she’d earned his respect. She’d forced her way through his barriers and stuck like a prickly thorn to his side; not really a pain, or something he wanted to get rid of, but sort of an annoyance that occasionally acted up; something that irritated one for a time, but otherwise wasn’t worth getting rid of. Their friendship, if that’s what you could call it, was a strange one, but he liked it.

She was fun to mess with, and he greatly enjoyed butting heads with her; especially over the House and Quidditch competitions. Dumbledore rarely had comments about Snape’s new coping methods; the only time it became an issue is when Snape couldn’t quite reel himself back in; but that was the only time the older wizard ever really did anything to put him in his place. S

     nape closed his eyes, breathing steadily through his nose; his heart rate had picked up while thinking of the older man, and his cock throbbed achingly in his pants; showing no signs of flagging any time soon. Why? Where’d the arousal come from? What was the trigger? Was it just, Dumbledore in his entirety? The few memories he’d recalled weren’t sexual in nature in the slightest.

In fact, none of their interactions over the past five years had been sexual. Idly running one of his hands down the center of his chest to rest over his stomach, he let the warmth of his hand and the weight of it anchor him, something else to focus on rather than the ache between his legs and the tension in his gut. Alright, perhaps Dumbledore was the cause of his arousal, but why? What was it about the other man that brought this on?

Ignoring his cock completely, he began thinking, trying to put the puzzle pieces together, and maybe get back some peace of mind. Dumbledore was not physically attractive; at least not in the sense that most witches and wizards held to the standard. He was elderly, was he attractive by elderly standards? Snape supposed he probably would be. For being a hundred-and-five-or-six he was holding up extremely well; even by wizarding standards. He was nimble, strong, and really only looked to be somewhere in his eighties or nineties. But Snape wasn’t attracted physically to people; he’d figured that out long ago; the physical attractiveness of a person, though nice to look at, was not a factor where he was concerned. So what was it?

It was difficult to try and pin point and label what he felt or suspected of the older man when he had no real frame of reference; he’d never been sexually turned on by anyone before, and this was all new to him. He’d honestly hoped questioning his sexuality would have ended in his teens. Dumbledore was powerful. His cock twitched against his pants. Okay, that wasn’t really surprising; he was drawn to power, attracted to power; power was something that he’d never had, and wanted; if not to have, at least to have around. Dumbledore was the most frighteningly powerful wizard he had ever met; his sheer strength and possible brutality were only things that could be guessed at, and gleamed at through history.

Snape had read about the famous fight against Grindelwald several times, but like everyone else in the wizarding world that had not be around at the time, could only really guess at the magnitude of the duel. Yes, Dumbledore’s power certainly was something that he could attribute this strange attraction too. But certainly it wasn’t the only thing; as his attraction to power went, Dumbledore was the only one who’d ever aroused him. He’d certainly never been aroused by the Dark Lord; moved, perhaps by his sheer brute strength and talent, but not aroused.

Perhaps it was Dumbledore’s kindness that went hand in hand with his strength that got to Snape. For the man’s power seemed to shine through all the more because of his kindness. Sliding his hand down across his stomach, he slipped his fingers beneath his pants and readjusted himself; the ache becoming too much of a distraction. Withdrawing and relaxing again, he frowned at the ceiling. Dumbledore’s kindness had never turned him on before, though. Dumbledore had been quite kind to him over the years, especially in the early years; he didn’t have to, Snape had thought to himself several times, but he did. He was kind, and patient, and gentle. Something besides arousal stirred, and Snape pressed his hand over the spot where his heart was beating a little fast. His chest was beginning to feel heavy, but not in the usually crushing sense; this was subtly different. Was that it? Was it really as simple as that?

His frown deepened as he thought over all of his interactions with the older man; all of the time spent together, the comfort given, the advice offered, the conversations with no real significant beyond the social time spent together. Had he fallen in love with Dumbledore? No. No, he couldn’t quite call this love, though perhaps it was related.

The heavy ache in his chest twanged slightly, a mixture of unpleasantness pressing in with the heavy warmth, as he thought of all of the nights he’d joined the other man in his tower office. He’d thought it exhausting, often complaining about it, but he’d really come to expect it, to expect to be required, to be wanted. Something had happened between them, but not during the heat as Aberforth might have implied; no, something happened before the heat, and only after did Snape become ( _admittedly unwillingly_ ) aware of it. He’d developed feelings for the older man, something more than companionship, friendship, or even more than the relationship between a ward and his charge.

Perhaps he could consider it a fondness? Yes. He’d developed a fondness for the older man, and a reliance on him. Snape sat up sharply, breathing heavily and steadily through his nose. He’d never been really reliable on anyone, always relied on himself; his intelligence, his resourcefulness, his connections. But then enter Albus Dumbledore, a man who not only embodied everything that attracted Snape ( _in any sense of the word_ ), with a nature of kindness and benign gentle personality, who did not hesitate to be firm or strict; a man who had taken it upon himself to mold Snape into someone useful, someone worth having around, someone worth befriending. Once upon a time, Lily had done the same thing. Snape’s heart ached and he ran a hand over his face, the black strands of hair falling to frame his face twisting and curling slightly from the damp that still clung to them. This was not exactly the same as what he felt for Lily, but it could go in the same category. Maybe this wasn’t love, but it was close; and it hurt. He understood now. Understood the tightness in his chest, and the confusion he’d been struggling with for months. He was hurt. Not physically, which was something he was quite capable of dealing with, but emotionally; he was far less equipped to deal with emotional hurts, something Dumbledore himself had pointed out long ago.

     “Bastard.”

 

*******

 

     By the time his arousal had been trumped by the suppressant in his system, and he’d dressed in his pajamas, it was well past midnight; but despite that Snape found himself marching his way towards the Headmaster’s office. He didn’t meet anyone along the way, which he figured was more in their favor than in his; he was in no mood to deal with anyone, nor would he permit anyone to delay his arrival at the Headmaster’s tower office. Climbing the spiral staircase, his naked feet quiet against the stone, he stepped up to the office door and hesitated to knock; hand raised, knuckles posed, he hesitated. There was no sound coming from within the room, but that was not really his concern. Deciding his temper was bad enough to slightly delude his caution, he dropped his hand and simply marched right in, closing the door behind with a quiet snap.

     The office was quiet, dimly lit, and empty. He fumed as he crossed to the vacant desk. Was the Headmaster really not in? He glared up at the sleeping headmasters and headmistresses who pretended to sleep in their frames, knowing that they knew he was here, and knowing that he knew they were only pretending. It was a silent (mostly) test of wills as Snape stood there glaring at them. He refused to leave, and they would not dare move off to alert Dumbledore while he was looking at them. But Snape had no patients for games and with a huff turned and moved towards the alcove that lead to the study. Stepping down into the study, he found it dark and empty, save for the phoenix who was dozing with its head beneath its wing. Cursing under his breath he turned and climbed back into the office, where the snoring of the paintings had quieted somewhat; he was sure one of them had slipped off to locate the Headmaster; _good, interrupt whatever the old fools doing_ , he thought aggressively.

Arms crossed tightly across this chest, Snape glared around the office; it was very possible that the Headmaster wasn’t even in the school; despite his habit of wandering undetected within the castle’s walls, he would often walk the grounds as well. That would be just his luck.

With a growl, Snape rounded the desk and pulled out a piece of scrap parchment and unstoppered the headmaster’s lavender ink. He was just posed to write the Headmaster a note when movement at the top of the stairs behind him caught his attention.

     “Severus?” Glancing over his shoulder he spotted the Headmaster standing at the top of the stairs in his evening robe. Snape felt his stomach flip uncomfortable as he set aside the quill and turned around fully to look up at the older man. Naturally the one night the Headmaster WASN’T kept up was the night Snape decided that they needed to talk; part of him felt guilty, but not guilty enough for him to back down.

      “Headmaster,” He nodded curtly, though his mouth had thinned as he scowled up at the older man. “We need to talk.”

 

*******

 

     A little while later the two Professors’ were settled into two comfortable chairs in the Headmaster’s study; Severus had suggested that they settle away from the prying eyes and ears of the late headmasters and headmistresses, to which Dumbledore had accented. Sever was, no doubt weary due to the portraits of Hogwarts need to gossip.

They sat in silence for a long few moments, Dumbledore’s hands clasped over his lap as he sat waiting expectantly. He could tell that the younger wizard was irritable, more so than could be considered usual, and he was curious as to what might have brought him to his office. It had been months since they’d interacted outside of work matters.

     “We need to talk,” Severus began, voice nearly as tight as his expression, which was angry and strained. Dumbledore nodded and moved to speak, but Severus cut him off with a glare. “but first, before we talk, you’re going to sit there, and you’re going to listen.” Snape hissed, dark eyes narrowed and sharp as daggers.

Dumbledore sat back in his seat, a bit stunned but not totally surprised by the other man’s venom, and nodded his understanding.

     “I have no intentions of holding back, nor do I plan on holding my tongue or checking my cheek,” Snape stated simply. “I will speak my mind to you, man to man. From this moment forth until our conversation is done, we are not Headmaster and Professor, we are not Benefactor and Charge, we are two adult men having a very overdue and much needed chat. Do you have any problems with that?” He spat. Albus shook his head calmly. He could only imagine the verbal lashing he was about to receive if Severus was so determined to insure that he would not be held accountable for what he was going to say in means of disciplinary actions or docked pay. But once he’d assured that he could speak his mind freely without ramifications, Severus seemed unable to speak; Albus watched him quietly as he sat across from him, rigid, apparently lost for words, and angrily searching for something to say. The young man seemed to practically bristle with anger, and Albus couldn’t quite restrain himself from prodding the young man; if only in the hopes to bring him to words.

     “Why don’t you simply try to relax, Severus?” From the nasty look the younger man gave him, Albus was certain he’d struck a nerve; but it appeared to be enough to spur the younger man on.

     “Relax? I will not relax!”

     “It was just a suggestion—”

     “A stupid one!” Severs spat, standing up and beginning to pace behind his chair, hands flexing at his sides irritably. “I will not relax, because I’m fucking pissed!” He came to a quick halt, viciously glaring at Albus who merely gazed steadily back; the younger man seemed to have found his voice, and Albus certainly wasn’t going to distract him from it.

Albus had believed from the beginning that Severus ought to have had such a violent reaction to their rather regrettable tryst all those months ago; he certainly wouldn’t have blamed him.

      “I have never been as angry, and as confused, as I have been over these last four months, never, not once in my life. That astounds me, Albus. It also pisses me off that it took so fucking long for me to sort through everything to get to this point. I should have been pissed months ago! I should have been far past this already!” He huffed. “Maybe I wasn’t being totally honest with myself when I told you that I wasn’t mad at you.” Albus braced himself. Despite knowing that he deserved the other’s wrath, and despite the fact the fully intended to take it, it made it no easier bear; and he certainly had no means of bracing himself for it. But Severus merely looked at him, his expression still taught with anger, but his gaze a little less sharp. “I am mad at you, Albus. I’m mad that you came into my room, mad that you touched me without my permission, but besides all of that, besides how obviously fucked up that entire situations was, I’m mad at you because you just left me alone.” Albus blinked; he had not expected that.

     “How could you?” Severus’s voice was quiet, but still tight with anger; he no doubt would have been shouting if he weren’t struggling so hard to remain as calm as possible. “How could you, Albus? How could you just, walk away? I fully intended to pretend that nothing had happened between us. I was prepared to do that! Prepared to go back to the ways things were, just add those nights to a long list of regrettable memories that haunt me in my nightmares.” Now something else had crept into his expression, and it tugged viciously at Albus’s heart; hurt had twisted the younger man’s pale sallow face, intermixing with his anger, and bringing the confusion that he must have been feeling to the surface.

“But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because you just… you just let it all drop.” Severus dropped back down into his chair looking slightly devastated, lost; a look Albus had hoped never to see on the young man’s face ever again. “You acted as though nothing had happened, between us… but not just, not just those nights, not just the heat. You acted as though, years hadn’t happened between us.” His expression darkened again and his gaze narrowed. “You never once asked me if I was alright. I was prepared for your questions, your annoying nagging. I was prepared with biting answers on the tip of my tongue. I was prepared to bat away your annoying worries. But you never asked. You never asked if I was okay, or if I was coping.”

     “Severus—”

     “Shut up.” Snape spat, voice rising a little, and Albus fell silent. “You spent years, Albus, YEARS hovering and asking your annoying questions. I was prepared for that, but not for being ignored completely!” And despite the higher volume and obvious anger in the other’s voice, there was hurt there to. “You didn’t just pretend, Albus. You didn’t just pretend that nothing had happened, you completely dropped the ball! You ignored me! You never even once inquired as to why I never came back here! Didn’t you wonder?!” He was yelling now, no longer worried about the portraits over hearing them.

Albus felt very foolish, and ashamed for not inquiring about Severus; at the time he’d thought that he was doing the proper thing, giving the young man space, not wishing to influence him in anyway; but like many times before, he’d been wrong.

     “I struggled for weeks! WEEKS!” Snape spat, balling his hands into fists atop his knees to try and keep them from shaking. “Weeks of wanting nothing more than to come up here, and sit with you, and talk, and reassure myself that things were okay. But you never once asked why I never came. Why? Did all of those years mean nothing?” His voice petered out, and he found himself unable to keep eye contact with the older wizard across from him; Dumbledore looked so tired, and so old. “Did I mean nothing? All of these years, I thought… I thought maybe… maybe finally, someone was paying attention to me, someone had my best interest at heart…” Severus closed his eyes tightly, his knuckles turning white as his nails bit his palms sharply.

He knew that Dumbledore wanted to keep him around because he was useful, knew that the older man had used him in the past for his own gain, and that he would not hesitate to use him again should the need arise; he’d known that… and yet, he’d thought that despite that, despite everything, the other man had come to care for him, even if only as a friend. That had been a comfort, and had made Severus more than willing to be used to whatever ends might arise.

     “Severus, I—”

     “I saw Minerva more than I saw you.” Severus hissed, opening his eyes and glaring at the back of his own white knuckles; they’d gone completely bloodless with the strain of his fists. “She was quite attentive really. She seemed very determined to get my goat once Quidditch started up again. Seems to think that Charlie Weasley being on the Gryffindor team will give her an advantage.” He snorted more out of habit that real malice; he couldn’t deny that the younger Weasley boy showed real promise on the field. His lips curled in a sardonic smile as he lifted his face to look back at the other man. “And speaking of goats, your brother was even more helpful and attentive than you. Isn’t that ironic?”

Albus blinked, startled, and gazed a little more fixedly at the younger man. He felt suddenly quite anxious; he couldn’t believe that Aberforth’s involvement could possibly lead to anything good. “Admittedly he has neither Minerva’s charm, or your benign nature, but he made me think. In fact, if it weren’t for him I probably never would have come back up here.” He lifted his right hand from his knee and examined his palm; his nails had bit angry red crescent moons into the skin.

“He could smell you.” He stated calmly before looking past his own raised hand to meet the other man’s startled blue gaze. “Aberforth, he could smell you on my skin. Admittedly that caused some alarm, since I knew that we hadn’t bonded. I checked, many times, actually.” He lowered his hand again and frowned at the other wizard. “What is Aberforth?”

      “Nothing,” Albus stated, surprised to find that his voice had gone rather dry, and his words struggled; clearing his throat he continued. “he’s just a wizard; however, he’s a wizard who is keenly in tune with our kind. Growing up with an Alpha for a brother no doubt triggered his keen senses.” Snape started; an eerie sinking feeling in his stomach.

     “So he can identify our kind?”

     “Not if they’re on the suppressant.” Though still a bit alarmed, this information did bring Snape to a final conclusion, one he’d been hoping would be wrong.

     “Aberforth thinks that something happened between us, during the heat.” Severus looked back down at his hand again. “But he thinks that I did it, whatever it is.” Albus frowned. “I didn’t want to think about it, think that anything happened between us but… if nothing had, would Aberforth been able to identify my scent, or yours while I was on the suppressant?”

     “No.”

     “I thought not.” Severus sighed, looking back up at Albus. “I’m angry Albus. At you, at myself, but mostly I’m angry because I don’t know what’s happening to me.” He leaned back in his chair, the anger draining away and leaving him feeling exhausted. “Why do I care so much that you ignored me? I’ve been ignored my whole life. My mother ignored me, I was lucky when my father ignored me.” He scoffed. “Lucky whenever anyone ignored me, because when people weren’t ignoring me, they were hurting me.” His gaze drifted back to the older man’s face. “So why, Albus; why did it hurt so much when you ignored me?” He asked. “Why can your brother smell you on my skin, when all you did was service me?” He hesitated for a heart beat before continuing. “Why is it the mere thought of you can arouse me when nothing else in my life could?” Albus was completely lost for words, his mind swimming with everything that the younger wizard had said; every anger word, and waspish hiss buzzing in his mind aggressively, but he pushed them aside for now.

     “Firstly, Severus, I believe that I owe you an apology. I am terribly sorry for the hurt that I have caused you, it was not my intention in the slightest to cause you such hurt and confusion.” He sighed and rested his hands on the arms of his chair. “I’m afraid that I have grown rather compliant with your expressed moods and opinions; so much so, that it didn’t even cross my mind to question you when you insisted that what happened between us meant nothing to you, that it didn’t bother you. I am willing to take full blame for any harm that my actions might have caused.”

     “I told want your apologies, Albus.” Severus grumbled, suddenly feeling as tired as the Headmaster looked. Albus felt a sad smile tug at his lips but shook his head slightly.

      “You might not want them, Severus, but I am afraid that I have done very wrong by you, and I need to apologize, for my own benefit if not for yours.” Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and examined the young darker man carefully. “I must confess that I was saddened that you stopped coming around to talk, I had become so accustomed to your company, but I felt that the choice was yours to make, and that I had no right to insist upon your attendance; not anymore anyway.” He shook his head a little firmer, frowning and sighing. “Again, I should have considered your feelings, and questioned your actions.”

     “You’ve stated that you felt that I’d moved beyond such things, the need to be coddled like a child.” Severus snorted.

      “Needing someone isn’t coddling, Severus.” Albus chided gently. “And I think that that is perhaps why it hurt so much, my ignoring you. For years I was a constant in your life, a figure of authority, safety, and friendly companionship; that must have meant more to you than either of us realized; though, now thinking about it, it really isn’t all that surprising.” Severus frowned, but Albus smiled. “Severus, you said it yourself. You spent your entire life being ignored. Ignored by parents who neglected and abused you, ignored by peers, ignored by teachers; being ignored, being essentially invisible became comfortable for you, a protective shield that you could wrap around yourself; because, as you’ve said, when people weren’t ignoring you they were hurting you.” Albus pulled his wand from his sleeve and gave it a wave; a moment later a bottle of scotch and two glasses floated into the room, settling themselves on a small table between them. A second flick of his wand and the two glasses were filled, one floating over to Severus who accepted it but didn’t drink it.

Albus took a sip of his, before cradling it between his hands.

      “It is ironic, but not surprising that my ignoring you would hurt you; something that had once brought you such comfort now causing you pain.” He shook his head. “Ironic. I’m sorry Severus, I’m sorry that I didn’t see it before.”

      “I don’t understand, Albus.” Severus muttered, taking a sip of his own drink but never taking his eyes off of the other man.

      “I have become a constant in your life Severus. A constant that more often than not would hover, pester, and annoy you with my need to be sure that you were taking care of yourself. That is not something that you had ever had before. Your parents neglected you, your ‘friends’ used you for their own gain; and even though our relationship started out as something of mutual gain, it has over time evolved into something else completely; friendship.” Severus frowned, lowering his glass to rest against his knee.

     “So, what? What are you saying, that I’m dependant on you?”

     “Yes, in a way. It may surprise you, Severus, but it really isn’t all that surprising if I think about it. You have a tendency to become dependent on those who have shown you kindness, and love, and positivity, things that you were lacking considerably in your youth.” Albus smiled a small smile at the confused scowl on the younger man’s face. Severus’s confusion was understandable; he was so ill prepared for things that most others would consider normal. “You became dependent on Lily Evans when you were very young, dependent on your friendship, on her goodness, her ability to make you feel regret or shame. She accepted you, a boy who everyone else had brushed aside, with very few qualms. She was a constant for seven years,” a pained expression tightened the corners of the younger wizards eyes, and Albus had to struggle against the urge to reach over and touch him. “But even after you both went you separate ways, she was still such a driving force for you; your love for her, for everything that she represented is what brought you back from those dark places. She still guides you now, to be better, to keep going, if not for yourself, than for her memory.”

“And now, you’ve become dependent on me. Like Lily, someone who represents the good, even to the point of foolishness as you have so often put it,” Albus said with a faint chuckle. “But good nonetheless; unlike Lily, who you loved and put, excuse me for being frank, on a pedestal, you have a different view of me.”

      “You’re good, Albus, but you’re not like Lily. There’s darkness inside you, where there was never such a thing inside her.” Severus muttered.

      “Yes. You’re quite right. I have a harsher quality to me that she never had; a firmer hand and sterner expectations. Where she pushed you, pushes you to be good, I push you to be better.”

Silence fell between them for a long few moments; Severus mulled over everything that the older man had said while he nursed his scotch. It was a lot to take in, to think over, however he couldn’t help but agree; it made sense.

      “Why could your brother smell you on my skin?” Severus finally inquired, his gaze rising to meet Albus’s again. “I can’t smell it; I worked very hard to get your scent out of my chambers.”

Albus stood, rounded the table between them, and extended his hand. Severus eyed him for a moment before lifting his hand. Albus took the other’s pale hand between his fingers and tilted it palm up; bending down slightly he sniffed at the tender underside of the wrist. He could vaguely smell his scent on the other’s skin, but it was weak, hardly noticeable; he certainly hadn’t noticed it before he got close enough to investigate; and he’d been attempting since Severus had first mentioned his encounter with Aberforth. A queer thought struck him, and he drew steadily back, releasing the other’s hand and eyeing the young man curiously.

     “Well, could you smell it?” Severus inquired, frown darkening slightly.

      “I could smell traces of it.” He admitted with a nod. Severus lifted his own wrist and sniffed before shaking his head and lowering his arm.

      “I can’t smell anything.”

      “I have a thought, but I am hesitant to voice it.” Albus admitted. Severus set his glass of half finished scotch on the table, perhaps a little harder than he’d meant too.

      “You owe me at least that, Albus.” Albus sighed, and nodded.

      “You are quite correct that we did not bond over your heat, something that I struggled to ensure. However, there is something of a bond between us, though only you seem aware of it.”

      “What?”

      “Now don’t get worked up,” Albus said lifting a hand to silence the tirade he could see bubbling beneath the surface of the young man’s patience. “this bond is subtle, barely a bond, and since I have had no inkling of anything connecting us, it is entirely one sided.”

      “One sided?” Severus looked away, mind whirring. “Oh God,” He sudden stood up, dark eyes slightly wide, and nostrils flaring as he struggle to keep his breathing calm and even. Albus lifted his hand again, but hesitated to touch the younger man.

      “Now Severus, please remain calm. This, this sort of thing is not unheard of.”

     “Not unheard of, not unheard of,” Severus moved away from Albus a few steps, his chest rising and falling more and more rapidly as he began to lose his grip on his emotions. “Albus, are you trying to tell me that you believe that ‘I’ attempted to form a bond between us? That, that….Oh God.” He pressed his hands against his face before letting them drop, and shaking his head. He’d never heard of such a thing, though he’d limited his research; he’d never cared about the history of their kind, only the effects he himself as an Omega could expect to go through and how to deal with them. Even so, his first heat, and he’d attempted to form a bond?

      “Now, Severus, please relax. This isn’t really that surprising,”

      “Not surprising? I fucking tried to tie you to me!” Severus snapped, his voice rising shakily. “Albus, this, this is terrible! If you’re right, and this, this thing, what I’m feeling is because of the shotty bond I attempted, than that means that I ‘ _attempted_ ’ to force you into being stuck with me!”

      “No, Severus, please don’t think of it that way. We were both struggling against our natures, seeking out a suitable mate. This just means that you found me suitable. It’s actually quite flattery really.” Severus huffed. Only Albus fucking Dumbledore could find this situation flattering.

“But if this really bothers you, than we can break the bond. It will be easy; it mustn’t be very strong if I felt nothing. What you’ve described to me, your confusion, may very well have been multiplied from its normal state due to the bond; your anger towards me, your loneliness at being ignored. I felt no such inclinations, nothing beyond my natural emotions anyway.”

      “How would we go about breaking it?”

      “Well, it would still be considerably unpleasant for you, Severus,” Dumbledore cautioned, eyeing the younger man seriously, examining him carefully over his half-mooned spectacles. “I’m afraid that I would have to be considerably cruel to you.”

      “How, Albus?” Severus demanded, and Albus sighed.

      “I would, essentially have to show you, prove to you that I am ‘not’ a suitable mate. That I do not care about you, your needs, or your feelings.”

      “So, how would you do that?” Severus asked, and Albus was a little pleased to hear the weary waver in the other’s voice. As confused and angry as he’d been these last four months, Albus could hardly imagine how emotionally traumatized he’d become if they were to sever the bond; it would be permanent of course, Severus would eventually return to his usual emotionally stunted self, but….

      “I would have to court another. Something that under normal circumstances I would never consider; I never intended to mate or bond with anyone at all.”

      “Then, how would you?”

      “I believe that I could call in a favor or two, strictly for this occasion.” Albus saw the confusion flicker across the younger man’s face, and decided that he would have to elaborate. “Horace Slughorn, he is a Beta, unbonded, but thoroughly willing to enjoy the perks of his natural biology.”

       “Slughorn?” Severus was completely flabbergasted.

       “Yes. I believe, with calling in a few favors that he owes me, as well as a reasonable bribe he could be convinced to step in and permit me to court him.” Albus clasped his hands before him and sighed. “It will be unpleasant for you, Severus. Even knowing that I would do this, it will be emotionally upsetting.” Severus hesitated, thinking over everything that they had talked about. It made sense, the idea of the shotty bond he’d attempted while in the grips of his heat; it certainly explained his sexual responses to the memories of the Headmaster. Part of him didn’t want to break the bond, a very small part that he squashed down as quickly as he could.

      “We won’t want to do it with a bunch of students around; otherwise it will make things very difficult. Let me think over it, Albus. I’ll get back to you, soon, and we can talk about the details.”

      “Alright, Severus.” Severus nodded and quickly turned and climbed out of the study; a moment later Albus heard his office door close with a snap. Albus sighed, and turning back to the table picked up his unfinished drink, downing it quickly. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, he headed back to his bed chamber to dress; he’d wait until dawn, and then he’d pay a visit to his brother.


	6. Perhaps some Brash Actions

     Several days after their late night conversation, Snape sent a message to Dumbledore requesting that they work on breaking the bond over the Christmas Holidays; the holiday would be an ideal time, seeing as ninety-percent of the student body would be gone. Dumbledore had returned his message with a simple note of agreement, and that he would contact Slughorn. Snape wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about Slughorn being the one that Dumbledore attempted to woo, but permitted himself to assume that there was simply no other options; certainly Dumbledore must have trusted Slughorn to call to him for help.

     Snape went about his day to day work as casually as he could, working hard not to think too hard on the bond that he had attempted to form in the heat of the moment with the older man; it was difficult, and he found himself sometimes pining to be near the Headmaster, and had to remind himself harshly that these desires were not necessarily normal. Yes, usually when such thoughts over came him he was feeling a bit lonely, but he didn’t want simple loneliness to evolve into something such as pinning. Once everything was said and done, he’d be able to spend time in the Headmaster’s company without feeling a fool; things would go back to normal, and that’s what he wanted more than anything; at least, that’s what he told himself.

Sometimes, very late at night when he couldn’t sleep, a small voice in the back of his head would try and reason with him; it would whisper things, such as the fact that he had developed feelings for the Headmaster  _before_ the bond had been formed, and that the bond only amplified the feelings, nothing more. Snape did his best not to pay attention to that voice; so what if he’d developed any kind of feelings for the other wizard? That didn’t mean anything. He’d developed feelings for Lily Evans and had never acted upon them. He knew, deep down, he was never meant to act upon his feelings; not like other people. It was a painful truth that he had known from a very young age; letting people in, permitting them to get close, relying on them for your emotional stability, it hurt a lot; no good would ever come of him forming more than casual friendships with people.

But when the voice would get to persistent, and he felt as though he were suffocating, he’d slink his way back up to the Headmaster’s office; this didn’t happen too often, but just often enough that Dumbledore would always have a small bottle of vodka on hand. Snape hated vodka, it was a disgusting thing, but when he felt the need to simply sit in the Headmaster’s office, to relieve the sense of loneliness that threatened to overcome him, he’d drink it; the burn helped ground him. They never spoke during these times, though he’d spotted Dumbledore looking at him once or twice, the desire to speak obvious; he was thankful that the Headmaster never did. If he had, it would ruin his resolve, he knew it. He needed the Headmaster’s buoying presence, the grounding burn of the vodka, and the bitter memories the drink made him remember; he needed it all to get him through till the Christmas holidays.

 

*******

 

     The Christmas Holiday’s arrived right along with the biggest snow fall that Snape had seen in his five years working at the school. He’d spent a good portion of the afternoon assuring some of his students that the train would get them  _safely_ back to London, and not to worry about it at all. Some of the muggle born students didn’t believe him, and he frustratingly had to request the use of the Headmaster’s fire place to have the children floo’d to London; he’d called in a favor with a middle aged witch, who expected the children to sit in with her until their parents could pick them up. And by the time the castle had emptied, save for the small handful of students who would be staying for the holidays, Snape was irritable and wanted nothing more than to have a hot bath and a long nap.

He wouldn’t, however, be getting his wish. Halfway across the entrance hall, as he headed for the stairs to the dungeons, the Headmaster intercepted him; it took Snape a second to realize that the Headmaster was not alone. A second older wizard, dressed in fine burgundy robes and covered in snow, was bobbing along behind the Headmaster, talking animatedly.

     “Severus, I’d like to officially introduced Horace Slughorn, even though you’ve met.” Dumbledore said with a coy smile, looking at the shorter, considerably fatter man, who’d just dried himself off with his wand, and mumbled as he noticed the trail of melting snow he’d left behind him.

     “Oh, pity ‘bout that, so sorry Albus, though I’m sure your caretaker can handle it, Oh!” Slughorn’s beady gaze had zeroed in on Snape, who stiffened a little. “Severus, my, my, look how you’ve grown! Well, you’ve gotten taller, but still a bit of a beanpole now aren’t you?” Slughorn asked with a merry chuckle, before playfully elbowing Dumbledore’s arm. “You aren’t starving the boy, now are you Albus?”

Snape bristled at hearing the Headmaster’s name come from the other man, and had to firmly remind himself, that Slughorn and Dumbledore were very good friends and they could address each other however they wanted.

     “Of course not, Horace. Severus eats quite well, he is simply built this way.” Dumbledore defended good naturedly, which soothed the prickling irritation Snape had been feeling, but only slightly; he felt rather uncomfortable standing beside his old head of house.

     Horace Slughorn was a short, fat wizard, who always dressed in the best clothes, and more often than not, had the best things money could buy; Snape knew of course where the money came from, and had to admire the rather ordinary wizard for his clever success. Slughorn was a friendly fellow, with a kind only slightly wrinkled face, a crooked smile, beady eyes, and a pointed nose. His hair wasn’t as dark as Snape remembered, and perhaps there was a little less of it.

     “I can assure you,” Snape let a slightly sarcastic smile slip into place as he hesitated to call the man by his name; he’d always known him as ‘professor’. “Slughorn, I eat quite enough, as the Headmaster has assured you.” He extended his right hand, and it was eagerly accepted by the shorter wizard.

     “Well, that’s good to hear!” Slughorn cheered, holding Snape’s hand between both of his in a friendly fashion. “You always were a bit small when you were in school, often wondered, but you were so quiet,” Slughorn babbled, still holding onto Snape’s hand; Snape took it in stride, kept the little smile in place, and listened to the man’s babbling. “But you were always brilliant, Severus, oh by God he was brilliant,” Slughorn twisted slightly, still not releasing Snape, and looked at Dumbledore, who was smiling contentedly, hands clasped before him. “didn’t I tell you that he was brilliant Albus? Always top in my class, though perhaps just beneath Lily,” he turned beady eyes back onto Snape, who desperately wished the return of his hand, but felt to extract himself would have been rude. “I wanted you in my club while you were in school, do you remember that?”

     “Yes, yes I do, Professor.” Snape inwardly cringed at having fallen back on the older wizards former title, but Slughorn merely chuckled loudly and patted his hand.

     “Oh no need to call me Professor, Severus, call me Horace!”

     “Yes of course, simply habit, Horace.”

     “That’s quite alright. Brilliant young man never did accept any of my invitations to join the club, so disappointing,” Slughorn babbled on, glancing back between Snape and Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling mischievously in Snape’s direction, making the younger wizard want to smack him. Dumbledore knew damn well how uncomfortable Snape was, but the old fool was enjoying himself far too much to do anything about it.

     “You wouldn’t have wanted me in your club, Horace,” Snape offered. “You had far more worthy students to dote upon.” Not a lie, Lily had been in the Professor’s club; she was more than worthy of the man’s praise.

     “Oh nonsense, I always knew you could amount to great things if you put your mind to it!” Slughorn insisted, finally releasing Snape’s hand and stepping back. “Although, I never imagined you’d become a Professor,” He stated, eyeing Snape calculatingly. Snape bristled a little under that gaze; he knew he’d fallen considerably short of any marks that Slughorn could have envisioned for him; the dark mark on his arm had ruined him for basically everything. But Slughorn smiled, and Snape relaxed a little. “But, the world needs professors! Especially one such as yourself, a true Master Potions maker, or so Albus says.”

     “Not nearly as good as you,” Snape consented, though it was a lie; Slughorn was a Master, but Snape felt for certain that he was better. Slughorn tittered at the praise, and elected not to contradict him.

     “Horace,” Dumbledore finally interjected. “If you’d like I could show you to your rooms, I believe that they’ve been made up to your specifications.”

     “Oh, oh yes! Yes, that would be fantastic, Albus.” Slughorn cheered, beaming, before looking back to Snape; the older man’s expression sobered and his brow wrinkled in something akin to pity, but not quite as biting. “Albus has told me everything, well, not everything, but enough to know what’s gone on between you two. I’m so sorry, my dear boy, that must be an awful burden. But don’t you worry too much about it, it can happen to the best of us.” He assured, giving Snape a slight wink before turning his full attention back to Dumbledore.

     “Well then, if you’d follow me,” Dumbledore said with a smile, gesturing towards the grand staircase.

     “Of course, good evening, Severus, so good to see you again my boy!” Slughorn called as he permitted himself to be lead away; Snape inclined his head in farewell. He watched as the two walked towards the stairs, and his stomach churned as the Headmaster placed his hand on the small of Slughorn’s back. The two were chatting merrily as they went, and Dumbledore didn’t even look back.

 

*******

 

     The following few days continued on without incident, though a storm was brewing. Despite wanting the bond severed, and knowing, and ‘ _agreeing_ to the terms, Snape found himself seething whenever he spotted the Headmaster with Slughorn. The two were never apart! Wherever the Headmaster was, Slughorn was there also, or at least not far _behind_.

The two talked constantly, laughing and chortling at shared memories and inside jokes. Snape supposed, despite the bitter taste on his tongue, and the taught irritation beneath his skin, that he could handle the two, if Dumbledore wasn’t constantly  _touching_ the other man. 

 _A hand to a shoulder. A light brush against an elbow. A press against the small of a back_.

It all set Snape on edge; however the final straw was during Christmas dinner.

     The entire staff, including the six students who had remained behind for the holidays gathered at a single table beneath the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall. Snape had arrived a little late, and thus was forced to sit on Slughorns right and listen to his babbling prattle with Dumbledore who was seated on his left. He ate in silence, attempting to pay attention to the conversation between Poppy and Pamona, but his attention kept slipping back to where Dumbledore and Slughorn were shamelessly flirting.

Perhaps no one else would notice, though Minerva occasionally shot a curious thin lipped glance their way, but Snape couldn’t help but feel that the two were being baldly obvious.  _You agreed to this. You want the bond severed!_ He tried to convince himself, struggling not to shoot sideways glances at the older men. Every time the Headmaster chortled at something Slughorn had said, or their hands would brush while reaching for something, Snape could feel his blood pressure rising. He felt unusually hot, and it took a lot of effort not to tug at the collar of his robes. But when he spotted the Headmaster’s hand beneath the table slide across Slughorn’s thigh he couldn’t take anymore.

Standing up abruptly with a growled swear, knocking his chair over backwards, conversation around the table came to a dead halt as everyone’s attention turned to him. It took him a second to rein in his seething anger, but after a few deep breaths he managed to school his expression.

     “Excuse me,” He said with an apologetic tilt of his head to the table. Setting his chair right he pushed it into the table. “I just remembered that I left something cooking in the dungeons and must attend to it immediately.”

     “Oh, I hope it isn’t anything to volatile!” Slughorn squeaked, missing Snape’s ill mood completely. Snape forced a harsh smile, doing his best not to glare at the older man. “Oh no, nothing  _too_ volatile, though I fear it is ruined beyond repair.” He shot a look at Dumbledore who was looking past his left shoulder. “Goodnight.” He said to the table at large before marching swiftly out of the hall.

 

     Once he was back in his chamber Snape permitted himself to lash out, shattering a nearby lamp and splintering one of his bookshelves with a lash of angry magic. He huffed, breathing heavily through his nose as he eyed the damage; he was less than satisfied. Glaring at the damage he’d caused he decided to leave it until tomorrow. Crossing to his chair by the fire he sat down in a huff, glowering at the flickering and merrily dancing flames.

He sat like that, glaring into the fire, for a long time; his thoughts wandering back up to the Great Hall and wondering if the Headmaster and Slughorn had excused themselves.

Once they did they’d probably go to the Headmaster’s office, no, perhaps Slughorn’s temporary rooms for some of Slughorn’s favorite sherry, or the Headmaster’s favorite mead. Did Slughorn know what kind of mead Dumbledore was fond of, the kind that smelled and tasted of liquorish?

Of course he knew; they were old friends; he probably even knew that Dumbledore was fond of refreshing sweets.

Snape seethed as he imagined the two drinking together over a second Christmas pudding, talking about things that they could not talk about in mixed company. They’d get onto the topic of an old anecdote, and Slughorn would laugh that stupid huffing laugh of his, while Dumbledore chortled merrily. Roses would gradually rise to their cheeks, a mixture of the drink, warmth, and present company.

Then talk would die out, and they’d share a look.

Snape’s fingers dug into the arms of his chair.

A hesitant look, a look that brought more than color to ones cheeks, but heat as well; and then they’d touch. Perhaps Dumbledore would slide his hand across Slughorn’s knee and thigh again; a gentle, subtle touch, more than friendly but not demanding. Snape bit the inside of his cheek, tasting blood; how he hated the image of the two that danced in his mind; how he hated the image of the Headmaster’s soft and aged hand sliding against the other man’s thick thigh. Then they might share a kiss; Slughorn would initiate it Snape was sure. The ex-head of house was not shy when it came to his own pleasures and enjoyments. Dumbledore wouldn’t mind in the slightest, though he’d probably give the other’s thigh a good squeeze.

     “Bastard.” He spat, rising sharply from the chair and marching to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

 

*******

 

     After enduring several days of the two flirting, Snape came to the conclusion that their plan was not working; yes he was a bit worked up over it, perhaps more than could be considered normal thanks to the shoddy bond, but he was not distressed, or sad; _he was furious_.

Yes, things were not going according to plan; but Snape hardly cared about that. All he cared about was the fact that he was angry, and not hurt. So maybe his feelings for the Headmaster were a little stronger than he’d originally thought; perhaps it was more than sheer fondness and reliance that made his blood boil every time he spotted Dumbledore and Slughorn together.

Perhaps this  _thing_ that he was feeling, whatever it was, could be considered a form of love; though certainly no form he’d ever felt before. He felt completely incapable of dealing with it rationally; especially when Dumbledore was whispering in Slughorn’s ear, and a giddy blush painted the other man’s chubby cheeks.

But as Snape glowered at the two from behind his stack of notebooks ( _he’d been attempting to do some last minute grading in the staff room_ ) he became aware of a slight change in the air; it was subtle, barely noticeable, but it was there. He could  _smell_ the Headmaster; and not just the usual smells of shampoo, ink, ash, or sweets; no, he could  _smell_ the Headmaster.

Inhaling carefully, so as not to draw attention to himself his stomach gave a slight flip and his chest clenched; there was no mistaking that heady musky scent. But it wasn’t the only scent that he could smell; there was a second scent, a weaker more subtle scent masked beneath the Headmaster’s. Snape’s lips curled in a sneer as he gazed at the notebook in his hands without seeing it; it was Slughorn that he smelt.

So the time had come.

     Dumbledore and Slughorn were planning on mating,  _bonding_ his brain unhelpfully supplied; and despite knowing that Dumbledore had no true intentions to bond with Slughorn, nor did Slughorn have any such expectations, Snape’s rational brain seemed incapable of accepting that. Surely something had to have changed since they all agreed to this.

How could Slughorn spend so much time in the Headmaster’s company and not suddenly realize that he’d fallen for the man? They’d known each other long enough; perhaps he’d suddenly realized how foolish he’d been to waste all of the time that they’d had together. And what if the Headmaster had realized that Slughorn would make for good company? What if he’d changed his mind about the bonding too?

Snape bristled where he sat; he’d never actually thought of any of those possibilities before. It had never occurred to him that there was a possibility, if only a slight one, that both men might very well  _actually_ grow fond of each other in a more than friendly capacity. The idea made him feel ill!

What if they did bond? What would happen then? What would happen to him?

Several thoughts seemed to collide at once inside Snape’s head, and he could feel the pressure beginning to form behind his left eye; a migraine promising to be terribly unpleasant.

If Dumbledore  _did_ bond with Slughorn, would Slughorn move to Hogwarts permanently? If he did, would he be content to just  _live_ there, or would he feel the need to occupy his time? And if that were the case, what would he do? What was Slughorn even qualified to teach besides Potions?

Snape’s stomach seemed to drop.

Slughorn wasn’t qualified for anything else; and if they did bond, and Slughorn were to ask, would Dumbledore deny him?

     A sudden fear seemed to steal his breath from his lungs.

If Slughorn asked, would Dumbledore dismiss him? Yes, Snape was qualified to teach more than Potions, but he already ‘ _knew_ that Dumbledore would  _never_ give him the Defense Against the Dark Arts post; and no other post was ever open.

Snape lowered the notebook he’d been pretending to read and stared straight ahead, not really seeing the two other men chortling quietly together. If Dumbledore dismissed him… without the man’s protection…

Setting the notebook aside, Snape stood up, drawing the other two men’s curious attention.

Despite the panicked thoughts running rampant through his head, when Snape addressed them, he sounded remarkably calm.

     “Please excuse me; I think I’ll finish these in the dungeons.” He then scooped up the notebooks and took his leave.

 

      But once he’d returned to his rooms he didn’t finish the notebooks, merely dumped them unceremoniously on the desk before crossing to his bedroom and closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wood of the door, feeling as though he were slightly dazed.

The smell of the Headmaster’s scent had stirred some of the less foggy memories of his heat, but the memories didn’t bring arousal, or anger; rubbing a hand across his face, he realized that the scent brought nothing but anguish. For day’s he’d wondered why he wasn’t feeling sad or upset that the Headmaster was courting another; wondered why all he felt was anger; but now he knew. He’d been mad because there’d been no real threat at first, just harmless flirting; but now, now he knew that the two intended to mate, could smell the excitement building between the two, and it hurt. He felt utterly rejected; rejected on so many levels even he knew it wasn’t entirely the bonds fault.

By mating with Slughorn, the Headmaster was essentially erasing Snape from his life all together; he was proclaiming that Snape wasn’t needed, or wanted.

Crossing to the bed, Snape crawled on top of it and lay down, feeling the coolness of the covers against his face and hands. He wondered, while he idly traced the stitch work in the cover with a finger, why he was so surprised; he’d agreed to this, he’d brought this on himself. Of course, he hadn’t really thought it all through; that was his mistake. Snape wondered if he would feel it, the moment that the weak bond connecting him ( _seemingly one sided_ ) to the Headmaster broke; would he feel it? Would it hurt? He hoped it would hurt; he wanted it to hurt. He wanted the bond breaking to cut through him like a knife.

It wouldn’t make for a good memory, but it would no doubt be the last thing Dumbledore ever gave him; that sweet sharp agony. And that would be something that Dementor’s  _couldn’t_ take from him.

He began to wonder how long it would be after Slughorn and the Headmaster bonded that he would be dismissed. Would he be dragged a long for a bit? Perhaps until the end of the school year? Or would he be dismissed immediately? He liked to think that neither man was quite so callous, but how would he know? He wasn’t really a good judge of character apparently. Despite having had his name cleared by Dumbledore, he was a known ex-Death Eater, and even if he wasn’t immediately carted off to Azkaban, his prospects for living were poor. Who would want to hire a known Death Eater? Credentials be damned, he’d be lucky to make ends meet in Wizarding society; and moving to another country was really out of the question. He wasn’t like Lucius, who had escaped a cell in Azkaban due to clever lies and a lot of money and influence. He maybe a clever liar, but he didn’t have Lucius’s pull in high society.

Lucius wouldn’t hesitate to put him up; would claim that it would give him time to spend bonding time with his godson Draco. But Snape wouldn’t go to Lucius, wouldn’t ask, and wouldn’t accept if the other man offered. It would be too dangerous to be around Lucius for too long. For one thing, it would tarnish his reform more than anything; certainly among the ‘good’ witches and wizards at any rate. Also, would he be able to keep up pretenses while constantly under Lucius’s thumb? What if the older man discovered that his alliance with the Dark Lord was not at all? He could take Lucius in a fight, he knew that for sure, but Lucius wasn’t the only Death Eater still walking free. Snape couldn’t avoid them all forever.

Clenching his hand into a fist against the covers, Snape sighed through his nose and closed his eyes. Something had to be done; he was a Slytherin, cunning and survival was something that he was good at.

 

*******

 

     It was a really simple idea that spurred him into action, a mad idea, but simple nonetheless. He’d put a stop to this  _thing_ between the Headmaster and Slughorn. He wasn’t entirely sure how, knowing that he wasn’t very good at articulating when communication was most important. He’d need something more than words to help sway the Headmaster, or at least appeal to his better nature; or possibly  _other_ natures that could be persuaded. It was that thought that made Snape go through his potions books, looking for a strong enough neutralizing draught that could make the suppressant in his system nill.

He didn’t think he could overwhelm the Headmaster, especially since he wasn’t in heat, but perhaps his natural Omega scent markers would be enough to piqué his curiosity. If nothing else it might distract his attention for Slughorn long enough to Snape to say his peace.

     It was nearly four in the morning when Snape made his way up to the Headmaster’s office; he knew that any sex that might be had, would  _not_ be happening in Slughorn’s temporary rooms; there wouldn’t have been enough privacy.

He hated the idea of Slughorn in Dumbledore’s bed chambers; he was also a bit jealous of the fact that Slughorn might have already gotten the chance to see them. Severus had never ascended the slightly spiraled stone stairs that lead to the upper level of the Headmaster’s office, and felt guilty curious.

     Once he reached the oak door he knocked. There was no response. He knocked again. Nothing. Huffing, and deciding that manners were the least of his worries, he entered without invitation.

     “Albus!” He called, hesitating in the middle of the circular office. Despite his curiosity he wasn’t brave enough to mount those stairs; but he didn’t have to be brave, for Albus emerged from his study, dressed in his night robe with a befuddled expression on his face.

     “Severus—” The Headmaster began, Slughorn appearing behind him looking equally as curious, but Snape cut him off; he couldn’t have the Headmaster interrupting.

     “Don’t sleep with Slughorn.” He said seriously, gazing steadily at the Headmaster. Dumbledore starred back at Snape, silver-white brows nearly vanishing into his hairline; he could hardly believe the younger man who stood before him.

     Snape was dressed in his usual black attire, minus his billowing robes, which would normally have hidden his lean and narrow body; he was far too thin for a man his age, and yet there was something alluring about that slight build, skinny waist, and narrow hips one could cut themselves on.

     “Don’t sleep with Slughorn.” Snape repeated drawing the older man’s wandering thoughts back to the present. His dark gaze was steady, brows furrowed only slightly, and jaw clenched firmly. It wasn’t a command, though everything in the younger wizards body language screamed dominance. Albus was lost for words; something had obviously gone wrong with their plan, but for the life of him he couldn’t think of any way to fix it. He certainly hadn’t expected Snape to barge into his office at four in the morning and suddenly try and call the whole thing off; this had been  _his_ idea in the first place.

     “Now, Severus, really—” Horace piped up awkwardly from where he stood in the doorway of the Headmaster’s study; he’d been mostly quiet up till this point, dressed in his silk whine colored pajamas. Unlike the Headmaster, who looked surprised, Horace looked worried. Snape shot him a seething look, far more venom and violence in his expression at the sight of the other man.

     “I wasn’t talking to you!” He spat viciously, making the older potioneer flinch slightly; this seemed to draw reasonable thought back to Albus, who cleared his throat and side stepped to block the other man from Snape’s view.

     “Now, Severus, there’s no reason to treat Horace that way.” He rebuked firmly, frowning down at the darker young man. Snape’s expression softened considerably once he was focused on Dumbledore again; momentarily oblivious to the third man’s presence.

     “He shouldn’t even be here!” Snape snapped, though the venom had drained from him, and it came out almost as a grumbled whine. He frowned ( _though Albus rather thought it looked more like a pout_ ) at the Headmaster for a few moments before addressing himself. “You have me.” He stated. “We have history together.” He thrust a pointed finger past the Headmaster as he shifted to shoot a glare at the other man. “Maybe we haven’t known each other as long, but we know each other better!” He spat.

     “Oh, I highly doubt that.” Horace scoffed, though he still looked extremely uncomfortable. Snape snapped, and would have moved towards the other man if Dumbledore hadn’t stopped him with a hand to his shoulder; the touch stilled him, but he still bristled in the other man’s direction. Snape turned his gaze back to Dumbledore.

     “You know me, all of me!” He insisted. “There are no secrets, Albus! Could you ever say that about  _him_?” Snape gently gripped Dumbledore’s forearm, and saw something cross his withered features, though it was gone before he could identify it.

     “Severus,” Albus said quietly; he was finding it very difficult to rationalize what was going on.

     In the preparation to mate with Horace, he’d been force to neutralize most of the suppressant in his system; there was enough there to keep his scent from being overly noticeable, but not enough to actually work against his instinctual nature. He’d merely been expecting to sleep with Horace, perhaps scent him, and that was all; mark him with enough of his scent to give Severus the impression that they’d bonded; he hadn’t expected Severus to show up and begin wafting the most tantalizing pheromones. It was a mixture of an Omegas scent, and vicious violent intent that wafted off of the younger man and it smelt utterly delicious.

Albus had admitted to himself long ago he loved seeing the younger wizard in a rage, it brought him some twisted pleasure; but to mix that, with his natural scent markers, and it was downright sinful.

It dawned on Albus that Severus must have neutralized his own suppressant, meaning he’d come here with intent; this was no accident. And seeing as there was still two more months until Severus’s next expected heat, there was no possible way that the suppressant had simply weakened or worn off. No, Severus had come knowingly and purposefully with intent to try and stop what he and Horace had had planned for this evening. The knowledge of that stirred something in Albus, something he couldn’t quite identify; a mixture of admiration, respect, and something akin to hunger.

     “We were together once, Albus. Didn’t you find me agreeable then?” Severus inquired, his voice quiet, and with a tiny trace of doubt in his voice.

     “Now, really this is ridiculous!” Horace sighed exasperatedly, moving into the office from the study doorway and passing Dumbledore and Snape; the latter turning piercingly sharp eyes on the other man.

Horace was ringing his hands, and fretting uncomfortably. His own pheromones began to assault Albus’s nose, and he couldn’t quite decide if he liked or disliked the mingled smells of the two younger men.

     “This was your idea!” Horace snapped, frowning at Severus who Albus could feel bristle beneath his hand, and he suddenly realized that he was still touching him; removing his hand he kept a weary watch over the younger darker man, who’d turned to face Horace, giving the other potioneer his undivided attention. “You’re the one who wanted to break the bloody bond!”

     “I’ve obviously changed my mind!” Snape hissed, glaring viciously at the older man. Horace continued to fret, pulling at his fingers slightly, obviously befuddled by the entire thing; but he didn’t stand down.

     “Well that isn’t how this works!” Horace snapped, his own voice raising just a little, letting his arms fall down at his sides in exasperation. “You don’t get to just change your mind and call everything off!” He pointed an accusing finger at Snape, brow wrinkling in exasperated irritation, slightly crooked eyes bulging. “You wanted to break that pathetic attempt at a bond, you agreed to all of this! You gave up any right to dictate how things were to progress from that point onward!”

Snape bared his teeth, a growl forming at the back of his throat, and though Slughorn lowered his arm and cringed back slightly he didn’t move to stand down or leave entirely.

     Albus found the whole thing rather interesting. Severus’s scent seemed to waft and whip around him, lacing the air with vicious and ‘rather’ murderous intent. And though Horace’s scent was less vividly sweet as the younger man’s, it too wafted from him tainting the air with stubborn rebellion. Wrapped up in a haze of scents and pheromones, his own instincts stirring feebly and leaving him a little out of sorts, Albus watched the two curious; then a queer thought struck him.  _They were fighting over him_.

This realization brought back a bit more of his awareness, and he quickly looked between the two. They were certainly sizing each other up, neither willing to back down or concede their points. Perhaps Horace was merely doing it out of wanting to hold up his end of their agreement, perhaps because he couldn’t quite fight his own instincts; but whatever his reason his foundation for standing his ground was shaky.

He  _was not_ as young as Severus, and though he had more experience, he was not in nature, a fighter. Albus had always loved that about Horace. The man really was, for no better word, a lover. He was not an overly powerful wizard, though he was extremely talented. He was intelligent, cunning, clever, everything that a Slytherin ought to be; however, he was not easily pushed into action.

Severus, on the other hand, was all of those things, including powerful, and he hardly  _ever_ had to be pushed into action. He was more than willing to throw himself into action when the time called for it; Albus had often thought that Severus would have made a good Gryffindor, even despite the fact that he was not nearly as foolishly bullheaded as most Gryffindors.

     “Why do you think that he should even tie himself to someone whose constantly flip-flopping about?” Horace snapped, his exasperation having turned to annoyed anger. Albus was drawn back to the two’s argument, ready to step in to keep things from becoming physically violent. Horace might have been able to magically defend himself, but he wouldn’t have put it past Severus to bodily attack the other man.

     “Because I respect him!” Severus snapped, and all of the air seemed to be drawn from the room. The tension, the anger, everything was gone. Severus’s shoulders dropped slightly as he blinked, obviously having surprised himself; Horace too looked utterly surprised, and Albus didn’t know what to think as the two looked at him. Had Severus meant for those words to sound like a confession? Like a declaration of love? Certainly not, if his slightly socked expression was anything to go by; Albus certainly hadn’t expected it, and could do nothing but look between the two lost for words. “I do,” Severus said quietly, licking his lips slightly as he looked up at Albus. “I do respect you, and, and perhaps I love you, I don’t know.” He gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t understand my feelings; I can’t even categorize half of them. But I know that I respect you, Albus. And I know that I need you in my life, to remind me why I’m still here, to remind me why I keep moving forward every day. You helped pull me out of the darkness, Albus, and I am so  _afraid_ that I’ll be dragged back into it if you’re not there to help me.” He closed his eyes, the admittance of his fears and worries more than he could bear admitting out loud. But after a moment, those dark eyes opened once again and didn’t waver. “I need you, Albus. Bond or no Bond, I need you in my life, and I can’t bear the thought of having someone else try and convince you to send me away.”

      Albus was silent for a long time, letting the words that the younger wizard had said sink in. Severus desired the bond, but did not demand it; he didn’t even demand Albus, simply admitted that he needed him. He was touched, honestly, by the whole situation. No one had ever so baldly confessed to needing him.

     “Albus,” Horace attempted, voice quiet, but Snape turned on him and bared his teeth, a loud growling hiss escaping him; it was the same sound he’d used against Albus when he’d first become aware of Albus’s presence during his heat all those months ago; only this time, it was louder, stronger, more threatening. Horace backed down at once, eyeing the younger darker man wearily.

Once he was certain that Horace wasn’t going to speak again, Severus relaxed and turned his attention back to Albus; his tense expression had returned. Albus could see the stress in the line of his mouth, and the slight wrinkle between his brows. They’d reached a crossroads.

     “You have to choose, Albus.” Severus whispered, and Albus knew that he had to.

     He was quiet for a long while, the three of them standing there in the middle of his darkened office; the portraits on the walls had long since given up their pretense of sleep, and peered at them from beneath eyelashes, or openly, waiting to see what would happen. Fawks cried softly from his perch at the top of the study ceiling, and Albus knew what his choice would be. Collecting himself, he turned his calm gaze to Horace, who was still eyeing the younger man with weariness.

     “Horace, I think that I need to have a personal conversation with Severus.” He stated, drawing the other man’s attention. He could see a flicker of realization cross the other’s face, and smiled kindly. “Thank you for your time Horace, and I’m sorry if you feel at all cheated.”

     “Oh, OH, no not at all, Albus!” Horace stammered, a slightly awkward smile lifting the corners of his lips. “No, no, I, I understand. If this is your choice, than I fully support it.” He said with a wave of his hands, turning towards the door. He paused with his hand on the knob and looked back at the other two; Severus hadn’t turned to look at him. “I hope you’re happy with the decisions made tonight,” he said genuinely. “Well, goodnight.” And he excused himself from the office, closing the door behind him.

     Once they were alone, the air filled with tension again, and it took Albus a moment to realize where it was coming from; but once his gaze found his Potions Master again, he realized that the tension was coming from him. Severus wasn’t looking at him, but rather at the base of his desk, his entire body held stiff and taught.

      “Severus,” the slight flinch made Albus pause, and he realized that Severus was still expecting to be turned away. His lips curled into a slight smile and he shook his head, tsking as he stepped up to the younger wizard, who started slightly when he took his chin and tilted his face up. “Are you really so insecure about your own importance?” He clicked his tongue chastising before letting his fingers slide up to gently cup the other’s pale sallow cheek. “You mean a great deal to me, my boy,” He assured, “and I never wanted to cause you any pain, though it seems that I do that quite a lot.” He sighed.

      “Does this mean that you don’t want to break the bond?” Severus inquired quietly, dark eyes searching for a lie or a flicker of doubt in the other’s steady blue gaze.

      “Do  _you_ wish to break the bond?” Albus counter curiously, and he felt the other’s jaw tense beneath his palm as he swallowed hard.

     “No.” Was the quiet reply, barely above a whisper; if they hadn’t been standing so close Albus might have missed it.

     “Than neither do I.”

      “But—”

      “Severus, I care very about you very much, and I see very little to complain about from keeping up the bond with you.”

      “Very little?” Severus inquired voice a little harder, though still quiet. Albus sighed.

      “I’m afraid, despite everything, I cannot help the regret that I feel for you, for stealing something that should have been enjoyable from you.” Severus sighed, and Albus was surprised to find a small smile curling the ends of his lips as he gazed exasperatedly but good humouredly up at him. Severus wrapped his own hand around Albus’s wrist, pressing his cheek a little more firmly against the soft palm.

      “I’ve told you, I held little stock in my own virginity. It wasn’t because the opportunities didn’t come, they did, often enough for my liking, but I never felt anything. There was never any arousal, or interest. Someone told me once, sex should be fun; and I certainly wasn’t going to force myself when my body obviously wasn’t interested, that wouldn’t have been fun.” He closed his eyes and sighed, the tension seeming to melt from his body as he took hold of Albus’s other hand. “And despite my anger at your actions, and at my own actions, I don’t blame you for touching me, or servicing me. It was pleasurable, at least what I can remember of it.” Severus said with a slight scoff, drawing Albus’s other hand to him. “I don’t fully understand my feelings yet, Albus, but they’re there, and have been for awhile. I’ve only just become aware of them.” He pressed Albus’s other hand gently against the front of his pants, helping the other’s hand slide between his thighs slightly to feel the hardness beginning to form there. “You’re the only person whose ever made me respond like this, Albus. I’ve never gotten hard for anyone, just you. Even just thinking about you can make me hard, even none sexual thoughts.”

Albus was surprised by Severus’s forwardness, but more so by the hardening length that stiffened and filled out against his palm. He gently groped the hardness through the tough fabric of the other’s trousers. Severus let out a throaty moan, dark eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his hips forward slightly. Albus let his hand slide from the other’s cheek to the side of his neck, and then to his shoulder. Pale slender fingers remained hooked loosely at his wrist, the other hand only barely resting atop his own hand that held the tented front of black trousers. He began gently running his hand up and down the length, caressing the younger man through the fabric, his gaze returning to that pale face. All of the tension had left the darker man’s face, leaving it relaxed and opened. He sighed in appreciation of the attention, bowing his head forward slightly to inhale at Albus’s wrist. Albus felt his stomach flip pleasantly at the airy moan that escaped the other man as he inhaled his scent.

     “Can’t you just, let it go, Albus? Your regret where I’m concerned?” Severus asked quietly, eyes opening to look up at him. “I want you, need you,” He sighed as he cantered his hips forward as Albus’s hand stroked downwards, causing the tips of long fingers to brush against his trapped balls.

Albus’s chest clenched almost painfully at the obvious pleasure the younger man was feeling; he wanted to pleasure him, wanted to love him, and touch him, but the memory of what he’d done during Severus’s heat was too much.

     “What if I evened the playing field?” Severus asked; the sudden seriousness in his tone startling. Albus focused on the other’s face, which had colored slightly. “What if, I made us equally guilty? Would you feel better then?” Albus didn’t know what made him rise to the bait, to reply; maybe it was the pheromones of the other man, the scent of an Omega working against the weakened suppressant, or maybe it was something else entirely. But he couldn’t help but reply…

“Yes.”


	7. One step back for three steps forward

     “What if I evened the playing field?” Severus asked; the sudden seriousness in his tone startling. Albus focused on the other’s face, which had colored slightly. “What if, I made us equally guilty? Would you feel better then?” Albus didn’t know what made him rise to the bait, to reply; maybe it was the pheromones of the other man, the scent of an Omega working against the weakened suppressant, or maybe it was something else entirely. But he couldn’t help but reply…

     “Yes.”

      Severus leaned forward against him, having to crane his neck a bit to put them nose to nose; Albus felt his heart begin to quicken against his ribs as the other’s warm breath played against his mustache and lips. He suddenly felt pulled as he gazed into those dark beetle black eyes; they seemed to draw him in, and swallow him down into the nothingness that they reflected. The emptiness of that gaze was alarming, and Albus was reminded how dutiful the younger man really was in everything that he did; he truly worked to become a master of anything he tried.

     “Then meet me in my rooms in fifteen minutes,” Severus whispered quietly, a note of command and warning in his voice, the sound sending a slight thrilled chill along Albus’s skin. He licked his lips to reply, but no sound came to him, so he merely nodded his head slightly; and then, Severus was gone.

Albus blinked, startled by the sound of his office door closing with a quiet snap. Fawks gave a soft cry, fluttering down from his perch and alighting on Albus’s shoulder. Albus glanced at the phoenix, which gently squeezed his shoulder with its talons, and nuzzled the side of his head with its beak. Fawks’s warmth and weight was a comfort, and Albus reached up to gently stroke the soft red and cold feathers.

     “He’ll be the ruin of me,” He mused to the phoenix quietly, though there was a certain fondness to his voice, and a sparkle in his eyes. He found that he didn’t mind so much that Severus would ruin him; even the things Severus ruined seemed to have a sad beauty.

     “What do you imagine his intentions to be, Dumbledore?” A quiet silky voice inquired, and Albus turned on the spot to look up at the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, who was no longer pretending to sleep, though he hadn’t moved from his sleeping position. He lifted his head, resting his narrow chin atop his arms and gazed down from his place on the wall.

     “Knowing Severus, something terrible.” Albus said fondly. “But I think, it will also be something wonderful.”

     “You think him so capable of doing wonderful and terrible things?” Phineas asked, cocking a brow.

     “Yes, I do. Certainly you of all people can’t deny the cleverness and cunning of one of your own house, Phineas?”

      “Of course not. I just wonder,” the portrait paused; lifting his head and rubbing the knuckle of his index finger against his lips in thought. “will he really be able to lift your feelings of guilt?”

     “Because it is Severus, I do not doubt it for a second.”

 

***

 

     When the fifteen minutes were up, as requested… no, commanded, Dumbledore found himself crossing the Potion Master’s office to the niche in the wall where the concealed entrance to Snape’s private rooms rested. He was surprised to find that most of the spells were not activated, only the most rudimentary ones, which he easily cast aside with little effort. Had Snape left the entrance so woefully unguarded on purpose?

Entering into the younger man’s living room, he was surprised to find it brightly lit, and warm; the fire in the fireplace had burned low, the wood red and emanating heat. And in the center of the room, set up between the armchair and the two-man sofa was a circular wooden table. There was an assortment of foods, ranging from fruits, to sweets, and even several selections of cheeses. A bottle of mule aged oak mead rested beside a large crystal pitcher of water, which dripped and sweated in the warmth of the room.

      “An, Headmaster, thank you for electing to meet me here,” Snape stated in a curt but also casual tone as he entered the room from his store room; he was dressed the same as he had been up in Dumbledore’s office, though he looked considerably put more together. “I know it is our custom to meet in your office, but I’m afraid that my schedule has been a bit harrowing as of late.”

Dumbledore was confused, but also curious as he watched the younger man uncork the mead and pour some into two crystal classes. Taking his own, he sat down in the corner of the sofa and crossed his legs, looking comfortable and settled. He gestured to the chair near the fire with a slight tilt of his glass before taking a sip. “Please sit,” Snape said, and Dumbledore obeyed. “I took the liberty of acquiring some food, I’m afraid I haven’t had time to eat,” a lie. It took a bit of effort to stop the frown from forming as Dumbledore sat. What was Snape on about?

      “I made sure to include some things for you,” Snape added, leaning forward and gesturing to the small arrangements of sweets as he set his glass down on the table. “I know your fondness for sweet things.” He stated with an almost mocking air to his voice as he plucked up a piece of watermelon. It was terribly out of season for most of the fruits on display, but the Hogwarts elves were extremely creative, and the castle rarely wanted for nothing when it came to things to eat and drink. “Now, as we discussed earlier, I must voice my opinion that you have been far too lenient with Tobius Gibbins.” Snape said sternly, frowning; and then it clicked.

Dumbledore had to distract himself from exclaiming as realization dawned by leaning forward and picking up his glass of mead. He understood now; this was one of their late night meetings, to chat, and discuss goings on at the school; a more casual time to talk baldly about their work. He still had no idea what Severus was on about, but he was curious, and knew that whatever it was, it was sure not to disappoint; deciding to play along as he was obviously expected to, he took a sip of the mead and let a calm smile cross his lips.

     “Now, Severus.” He said cheerfully, “Mr. Gibbins intended no harm; he just got a little over rambunctious. Boys will be boys, as it were.”

Snape’s lip curled, and he set the rind from his piece of watermelon on an empty plate.

     “He sent Matthew Sheffield through a second floor window, Dumbledore.” Snape snipped, dark brows drawn together as he scowled at Dumbledore. “Sheffield was lucky not to have been killed, let alone seriously injured.”

     “Accidents are bound to happen at a magical school.” Dumbledore said simply. “There is always a certain amount of danger when bringing nearly a thousand unqualified witches and wizards under one roof.”

     “I am well aware of that, Dumbledore, but the fact that Gibbins not only did magic in the corridors, which must I remind you is against the rules, but also that he directed this magic at another student, with or without the intent to harm, and could have very nearly cost Sheffield his life is utterly inexcusable!” There was a definite note of exasperated anger tingeing the younger man’s voice now, but Dumbledore merely took a lemon jammy dodger calmly, as though he hadn’t noticed. “And as for ‘ _boys will be boys_ ’, Albus, I disagree. Boys must be held accountable for their actions! If Gibbins had been in my house, he would have been expelled at once!”

     “But Mr. Gibbins is  _not_ in your house.” Dumbledore countered turning his blue gaze to focus on the other man. Snape bristled under his gaze.

     “But Sheffield is! You might not care, Albus, but I find it terribly uncomfortable having to write to a student’s parents to inform them that they’ve been injured and had to spend a few days in the hospital wing!”

     “Oh surely you didn’t write his parents Severus? He wasn’t even badly injured.” Snape seemed to puff up like a puff adder. It was never wise to be thoughtless when it came to the young man’s precious Snakes; Dumbledore actually found Snape’s devotion to his Slytherins quite admirable; even if Snape had a tendency to favor them over other students.

     “When one of my students is sobbing hysterically because something like this has happened, yes I write their parents!” Snape snapped. “Even if Gibbins didn’t intend to harm Sheffield, which I doubt very much Albus, Sheffield was still horribly shaken. I would have requested that he go home for a week or so to be with his parents, but he declined the offer.”

      “How very thoughtful of you.”

     “Unlike most here, I actually  _care_ about the students well being.” Snape spat quietly, taking up his mead glass again and bitterly sipping at it. Dumbledore rose a brow as he gazed at the younger wizard.

     “Are you implying that I do not care about the safety and well being of the students here, Severus?”

     “No, not at all,” Snape hissed. “Just that you are  _selective_ with those you tend to, and those you punish.”

     “Severus, children must learn from their mistakes. That doesn’t mean we should crucify them for accidents such as these. Gibbins was just as shaken by the incident as Sheffield, and had you been present when Minerva brought him up to my office you might have seen that.”

      “Just because he was  _shaken_ doesn’t mean that he was  _remorseful_.” Snape stated coldly, his voice a quiet hiss as he glared from over the top of his crystal glass. “He was probably more shaken by the fact that he’d been caught. No doubt he expected to be punished. I can just imagine his relief when all that happened was two week’s worth of detention and fifteen points taken from Gryffindor.”

     “Severus, do you honestly think that Minerva and I went easy on Mr. Gibbins? Minerva was quite cross with him, she can be just as stern as you when it comes to the students within her own house, especially if they do something that could ruin the houses reputation.” Dumbledore countered, gazing steadily at the other man, frowning slightly. Snape snorted, his dark gaze shifting to glare in another direction.

      “You favor Gryffindor’s just as much, if not more than she does.” He spat, dislike and anger dripping with each word. “You always have. Why am I not surprised that you would try and talk your way out of taking some real action against Gibbins. The boy is a bully,” Dumbledore was surprised at how sharply those dark eyes flicked back to bore into him. “but you’ve always favored the bullies haven’t you? It was always easier to blame the victims.”

      “Severus, if you’re trying to imply—”

     “I’m implying nothing, Dumbledore. Victim blaming is easy, so you do it. You do it now, as you did when I was at school, and no doubt you did it before then too.” Snape inhaled deeply, and Dumbledore prepared himself for a verbal tirade; it wouldn’t be the first he’d listened to, and he knew for a fact it wouldn’t be the last. Snape was after all, a very bitter, angry, and vicious young man. But the tirade never came. Snape seemed to slowly deflate, exhaling steadily from between barely parted lips, dark gaze still focused on him. They sat that way in the pregnant silence for several long moments, their gazes never wavering.

      “Boys will be boys,” Snape repeated, his voice steady and low, though the anger had gone, replaced by something that sounded to Dumbledore to be slight curiosity. “well boys will be held accountable for their actions,” he continued, inhaling deep and steady once more. “we must all be held accountable for our actions.”

It hit Albus then, the scent; back in his office his sense of smell had been so full of Severus’s natural Omega odder, that once in Snape’s rooms he’d hardly noticed it; it was just,  _there_. But now he became terribly and keenly aware of the scent strengthening, growing more vivid and heated; it assaulted his senses and left his mind fuzzy and blank for several seconds. What had they been talking about?

      “I’m curious Dumbledore,” Severus said, breaking through his slightly confused thoughts and drawing him back to the present. Severus was sitting up a little straighter on the sofa, his legs uncrossed, and his head tilted ever so slightly. “Can you smell that?” He made a point to sniff slightly. “I noticed it a little while ago,” He shifted, sniffing at the air again as though curious as to where the smell was coming from. “it isn’t a bad smell,” he mused to himself. “but I can’t place it,” Rising from his seat he bent his head slightly and sniffed about the table between them. “It’s to heady to be the food,” he mused aloud, looking up to meet Albus’s eyes. “Can’t you smell it?”

Albus didn’t have time to fully register the question, the other man’s steadily strengthening scent thickening as he moved nearer. The smell was slightly different from when he’d been in heat, less wet he thought, but still musky and sweet. It pulled at Albus’s senses, stirring the Alpha’s curiosity at the scent of an Omega, a familiar Omega at that.

Severus hesitated, frowning slightly before resting one hand on the arm of the chair and leaning forward; Albus pressed himself against the back of the chair slightly, his heart hammering a tattoo against his ribs as the younger man leaned in and sniffed. Once, twice, and the third time deeply.

     “Oh,” Severus gasped, though the sound was drawn out on the end of a sigh as he leaned back a little. “It’s you.” He stated. There was something gleaming behind those dark eyes, but it was still buried to deep for Albus to identify it; not that he could have even if he’d wanted to; Severus’s scent had spiked slightly, and seemed to hang on the air like a fog, thick and unrelentingly appealing.

Albus tensed a little when the younger man moved fully in front of him, bracing both hands on either side of him, sniffing deeply again.

     “S-Severus?”

     “I never would have guessed,” Severus sighed, his heavy lidded gaze lifting to meet Albus’s own. “you smell  _delicious_ Headmaster.” He leaned forward a little, tilting his head to sniff about the curve of his neck and shoulder; Albus started slightly when a hand pressed against the side of his lower stomach and snatched the hand away on pure instinct. Severus made a little  _clicking_ noise with his teeth drawing back slightly, looking down at the hand wrapped around his wrist; his grip wasn’t tight, and Severus could have easily pulled away but he didn’t. “Don’t you want me to touch you?” Severus inquired, turning to look back at Albus’s face. “I will,” He stated matter-of-factly, leaning in, and no doubt would have connected their lips if Albus hadn’t jerked his head back; he was extremely confused.

The smell of the younger man was coating his brain and making it difficult for him to connect the dots between point A and point B. He wasn’t exactly sure how they’d gotten to this, or when Severus’s scent had gotten so strong. Severus looked at him steadily, only a little put off at Albus’s twitching. He tilted his head slightly.

     “What? What’s wrong?” He inhaled again, his eyes fluttering momentarily closed at the steadily strengthening smell of the Alpha in the chair; the heady musky scent tickled his nose, and sent pleasurable tingles of expectancy along his skin. He opened his eyes again, and a very small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; it was a slightly mocking smile, though his gaze was not mocking in the slightest. “Are you just confused?” He asked. “That’s okay, maybe you haven’t caught on yet.” He whispered, leaning up and gently pulling his wrist from the other’s grip. “That’s okay, maybe I’ve gone to fast,” He chided himself, stepping away from the chair, only twisting around to make sure he didn’t bump into anything before looking back at the older man. “your scent surprised me, that’s all. I guess it spurred me into action before I’d even given you a chance to realize what’s happening.” He closed his eyes and inhaled again, letting out a long low pleased sound. “You smell so good,” he sighed.

Albus blinked as he watched the other man; he thought perhaps with a bit of distance between them the Omegas scent would clear a little, but it remained just as thick upon the air, leaving him feeling a little fuzzy.

     “Can you tell yet?” Severus inquired, tilting his head and looking beneath dark eyelashes, to gauge the other man’s reaction. “Maybe it isn’t strong enough yet,” he mused, rolling his head back up and looking around; he moved back to the sofa and sat down. “Maybe if I just,” He laid his head against the back of the sofa, pressing himself into the plush cushions, and bracing his feet carefully on the rug knees parted, rolled his hips carefully and deliberately.

The Omega’s scent spiked again, and Albus’s cock began to respond, rapidly hardening as his heart beat out a bruising tattoo against his ribs. Severus closed his eyes, continuing to undulate from his position on the sofa, rolling his hips with a very carefully determined steadiness. As his hips rose slightly, his eyes opened and he let out a slight ‘oh’, which was quickly followed by a sigh as his weight settled back down on the cushion.

     “There,” He sighed, rolling his hips again in the same steady fashion. “I’ve never done this before, I wasn’t sure if it would work,” the sigh that tried to escape him turned into a feint pleasured whimper as he spread his thighs a little more and lifted his hips. Albus’s prick throbbed between his thighs as all reasonable thoughts left him and the Alpha became fully conscious.

The smell of the Omega’s musky-sweet scent was suddenly laced with the tantalizing scent of spicy-heady slick. With a sigh, Severus sat up straighter before pulling himself back to his feet; he had to steady himself slightly before turning his attention back to Albus. He sniffed at the air again; a slight tremble running down his spine at the Alpha’s aroused state. He couldn’t help the proud self-satisfied smile that spread across his face as he moved to stand in front of the chair again ( _though he kept at a teasing distance; it simply wouldn’t do to have the Headmaster grab him_.)

      “There, now I’m sure that you can’t miss that.” He shifted, and noted that the Headmaster’s dilated eyes never left him; the thrill of being watched so carefully sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. The Headmaster was looking at him much like a fox would look at a rabbit, and he couldn’t help the thrilled sense of excitement twisting in his stomach. Moving slowly, taking great care with each movement, he backed away from the man watching him; he could see a darkening shadow cross the Headmaster’s expression and wondered if the Headmaster would be the sort to give chase. The thought had pleasant merit, if the slick slipping into the crack of his ass was anything to go by; but, it would have to wait. He had other plans for this very early morning.

Severus only stopped once he bumped the desk beneath the window. The Headmaster was still watching him carefully from across the room, still as a statue, though Severus was sure he could see the cogs of instinct working behind those blue eyes. Bracing his hands on the desk, he lifted himself up slightly to perch himself on the very edge; careful so as not to slip he lowered himself to rest on his elbows, stretching his back as his weight awkwardly rested between his elbows and the balls of his feet, which he had firmly planted on the stone floor. The angle was uncomfortable, and he was sure his neck would be sore, but the position jutted his hips in a rather lovely and enticing fashion; and despite the tightness of his trousers stretched taught over his trapped hard member, he managed to school his expression into one of calm. His heart was pounding hard, and he felt a bit nervous at what he was going to do; he knew that this wasn’t right, that enticing Albus into surrendering to the Alpha, forcing him into rut, was terrible. It was morally wrong, because he would be, in essence, taking advantage of the other man; the thought made him nervous, uncomfortable, but he’d agreed to this. This would even the playing field ( _though Severus thought that the actions he was taking were far worse than the actions the Headmaster had taken all those months ago_ ) and perhaps the other man could let his regret go enough to permit them to get closer.

      “You’re too far away.” Severus stated, and he could see the faintest shift in the other man’s shoulders. Deciding that enough was enough, Severus spread his legs a little farther and let his head fall back, letting out a feint whine as he pushed his hips up; presenting in this position was difficult, his elbows digging into the wood of the desk as he had to rise onto his tip toes. But it was also the safest. He would have to work very hard to keep himself face to face with the other man; even though the idea of bonding no longer really confused him or necessarily frightened him, he didn’t want the bond to be formed without the other man’s knowledge. Again. “C’mere.”

Dumbledore apparently didn’t need any more invitation and Severus started, gasping as the other man was quickly upon him.

      The Alpha was insistent upon touching him, and Severus found that he didn’t really care. Strong aged hands ran along the length of his body while his throat and neck were tickled by beard and mustache. The Alpha scented him beneath the jaw, hands gripping at his hips, which he was thankful for; with the other mans hands on him he knew for certain he wouldn’t accidentally slip off of the desk and make an ass out of himself. Not that The Alpha would really care, Severus thought. Despite the fact that Severus would have been perfectly happy to let the other man simply do as he pleased, he knew that that wouldn’t constitute him holding up his end of this deal. So, with a bit of effort he lifted his head and let out the most piteous whimper he could muster. The sound caught the other man’s attention and darkened blue eyes met his. He gently reached up and plucked the man’s half-mooned glasses from his nose, setting them on the other side of the desk before reaching back up to gently grip at the other’s shoulder.

     “Touch me,” He was careful to keep the tone in his voice submissive, pleading; he would rather not piss the Alpha off and up injured. Being submissive would be the easiest way to manipulate the other man into doing whatever he wanted. He’d play upon the Alpha’s instincts. “Touch me please,” He whined, gasping as he struggled to keep his head up ( _his neck would be killing him tomorrow_ ); doing his best to push himself up onto his tip toes, a difficult feat with the other man practically draped over him. “I need you to touch me, I’m so hard, please,” He could practically see the processes working behind the Alpha’s eyes.

     Alphas ran on extremely basic instincts while in rut: Mount. Rut. Knot. Impregnate. _Repeat_.

      But if there was any sort of familiarity between the Alpha and whoever it is they’re attempting to mount, those extreme basic instincts can be put on the back burner for a short time. Alphas historically have been called brutish and beasts, but Severus thought that that was rather inaccurate and unfair. From what he’d learned of Alphas from Albus, they could be caring as well. After all, it wouldn’t make sense for them as a species to have the Alphas be extremely violent brutish beasts; they’d end up more often than not killing their mates and offspring.

     “Please,” He whined, doing his best to push himself into the presenting position, though it was extremely difficult. Albus leaned forward, forcing Severus to drop his head back, and began mouthing at his throat, a hand slipping from a sharp hip to the front of the tented trousers. Severus gasped and couldn’t help the moan that escaped as he was groped and fondled; his cock ached and throbbed, but the stimulation was heavenly, and just teetering on the edge of uncomfortable.

     “Does it hurt?” Severus started a bit at the quiet but lust darkened voice at his ear, quickly followed by lips and tongue. He sighed as the shell of his ear was licked, followed by the lobe being sucked between lips and gently nibbled on by sharp teeth.

     “Yes,” He lifted his head a bit, turning so that the sides of their faces brushed together. “make it stop,” gently mouthed at the other’s cheek, lips catching on silver-white hair. “make me feel better.” His tone was still carefully submissive, but there was no real request in his words; and whether or not the Alpha picked up on it, he straightened up and forced the younger man farther up onto the desk.

Severus gasped as he was pushed back onto the desk, his feet leaving the stone floor. He couldn’t fully lean back, nor could he reach the ground, leaving him in a rather awkward position. But before he could complain about it the older man pulled the chair sharply out from under the desk, sat down and lifted Severus’s legs to rest over his shoulders. Severus had honestly been expecting a hand job, but the older wizard seemed to have something else in mind as he hastily undid the front of his trousers and drew him out of the folds of his pants. He couldn’t restrain a moan as he was swallowed down to the root, his ass clenching against the desk as more slick began to dribble along the cleft, soaking his pants.

Dumbledore wasted no time, sucking and laving at the hard cock in his mouth. He bobbed his head a bit, never releasing or coming close to releasing the shaft. The gasps and moans of the man beneath him were enough to spur him on, not to mention the potent smell of slick and arousal that was the strongest between the other’s thighs. His own prick strained against his pants, precum having soaked through the cotton material leaving him feeling sodden and wet. He wanted nothing more than to bury his length in the Omega’s slick coated ass, felt as though he’d erupt the moment he was seated fully into that warm wet heat. But not yet; not while this little Omega was uncomfortable; he wanted a pliant Omega, an Omega who would stretch himself open for him. If that meant having to wait a little longer, then so be it.

     “Oh,” Severus gasped, closing his eyes tight and thumping the back of his head against the stone border of the window sharply. His entire body seemed to flush with heat as his blood pressure rose, his heart hammering a bruising tattoo against his ribs. He gasped and moaned as the man between his thighs increased the strength of his sucking. He hummed stutteringly as the coil in his gut tightened, and his balls seized up. He was going to cum, and the more he resisted the faster he seemed to approach the edge. The air in his lungs seemed to catch as he was swallowed down to the root, fully encased in warm wet heat; he slight squeak forced its way past his lips as the older man swallowed around his prick, the muscles of the other’s throat convulsing around him. A second later, his climax hit.

With a loud broken cry he spent himself down the other’s throat, his cock and balls pulsing sharply with each spurt. He gasped and moaned as the other’s throat flexed around him, swallowing every last drop his balls had to offer. Albus watched the other man sweat and twitch through his orgasm, swallowing down every last trace of salty spunk. He held onto the younger man’s twitching thighs, sucking gently until the other wizard grew still and silent. Only then did he lift the other’s legs off of his shoulders and release the softening cock from between his lips. Standing up, his own cock painfully rigid in the confines of his sodden cotton pants, he moved between the other’s thighs, fingers digging beneath the hem of black pants.

     Jarred out of his post orgasmic stupor Severus let out a slight yip and began wriggling furiously. It took a considerable amount of effort to get his feet back on the stone floor and struggle out of the other man’s grasp. His legs trembled slightly as he took several unsteady steps away from the older man, who glared at him and released a low growl in the back of his throat and made Severus’s knees almost buckle.

     “Wait, wait, wait!” He pleaded as the other wizard attempted to grab him again, forcing him to twist and back up some more; he knew that if Dumbledore were to get his hands on him, there’d be no escape; the other man was simply far too strong. “Please, wait,” He gasped, panting, feeling a bit lightheaded from arousal, the Alpha’s pheromones, and his own release. “Let’s move to the bedroom,” He gasped again as the Alpha managed to grab his wrist and yank him against him. He whimpered at the low growl in the other’s throat; the Alpha was getting impatient. “Please, I just want to move to the bedroom,” He stated. “That’s all. I still want you, I do, I swear, I’m not running away.” He assured, leaning in against the other man’s chest and burying his face in the slightly coarse silver of his beard.

Hesitantly he touched the Alpha’s other hand, stilling at the sound of warning he receive. When the sound stopped he loosely gripped the other’s sleeve and tugged at his hand. “I still want you,” He assured, breathing quickly as he pulled the other’s hand around his hip to his rear. “See? Soaked through,” Severus whimpered as the other’s hand gripped firmly at his rear, his cheeks clenching as more slick pooled in his insides, dripping out insistently. “I’m not going to run away,” he assured lifting his head to look into the other man’s face. “Let’s just move to the bedroom, okay? Please?”

It took a moment, but the Alpha did release him. Severus rubbed at the wrist that had been captured, and knew that there would be bruises there later. Turning slowly, eyeing the other man wearily, he gestured towards the bedroom door, leading the Headmaster carefully. Once they were in his room, Severus was pleased to find that the Headmaster was, at least for the moment, distracted; he sniffed curiously at the air, and seemed, despite the intensive care Severus had taken, to remember their last romp within the space. He moved towards the bed and ran a hand along the comforter idly, sniffing at the air again.

As Severus undid the buttons on his top, he watched the other man carefully; he doubted that the Alpha would remain distracted for long, though he rather found the other man’s behavior curious. Could the other man  _really_ smell traces of their last coupling, even four months later and even despite the extreme magical scrub down Severus had done? Severus certainly couldn’t, and wondered as he undid the last button and slipped out of the black top he wore over his white button up, if the other man had a better sense of smell.

Beginning to feel a bit impatient with the amount of buttons he had to deal with, Severus merely undid the first two of his white shirt before grabbing at the bottom and pulling it up over his head. As he managed to pull the shirt away, hair falling messily into his face as he did so, he was shocked to find the Alpha beside him again and gasped a bit startled.

He eyed the slightly taller man wearily, the white shirt being discarded as carelessly as the black top had been. A shiver ran along his skin, quickly followed by gooseflesh. How had the older man moved so fast and silently back to him? Watching him steadily through eerily calm darkened eyes, the Alpha didn’t move. Severus suddenly felt at a loss at what to do; the other man, as much as he respected him, admired him even, also rater alarmed him. Sometimes Severus would forget  _just_ how powerful the other wizard was, but then he’d be reminded, whether it is with a look, a word; rarely if ever in action, for which he was grateful.

When Severus didn’t move, merely remained where he was near the door looking awkward, Albus gently reached up and bushed the black strands of hour out of the other’s face. He could sense the Omegas nerves, and despite feeling a bit desperate himself, wanted to assure the other that he had no real intentions to hurt him. Cupping a pale cheek, he ran his thumb beneath a dark eye before letting his hand slip down to rest against the side of a thin pale neck. The column of flesh was enticing, and he couldn’t resists leaning in to gently mouth at it.

Severus sighed as lips and tongue worked at the spot beneath his ear, hands gently smoothing down along his sides. He didn’t know exactly why he felt so nervous; Albus was  _obviously_ not going to hurt him; especially if he gave him no good reason. And it wasn’t as though they hadn’t done this before. He gasped as sharp teeth nipped at his throat and long fingers pushed his trousers down past his hips so that they pooled around his ankles. His cock was still flaccid, but occasionally it would twitch in interest. His pants were completely soiled with slick, leaving him feeling wet and sticky as the cotton material clung to his skin; he really didn’t like it.

     “Come to bed,” Albus whispered against his ear, and Severus sighed, pressing his forehead against the other’s shoulder.

     “Why am I scared?” He whispered, more to himself than to the other man. Albus took his hand, and giving him enough time to toe off his shoes and socks before climbing out of his pants, lead him to the bed. Severus’s heart pounded rapidly as he sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at the older man above him.  _Why was he scared?_ They’d done this before! He couldn’t understand this sudden fear, it felt completely and totally irrational! Was this what his real nature was? Anxiety, fear, and uncertainty? If so, he  _hated_ it. He was not a fearful man! Yes, things did frighten him. Yes, he had demons and nightmares he’d rather never face; but that’s not how things work. You get no choice! You face your nightmares, you vanquish your demons, you move past the fear! So why couldn’t he now?

His stomach twisted into knots, and his chest clenched. He knew that there would be no  _getting_ out of this. You didn’t get  _away_ from an Alpha in rut, and if you tried, you’d probably end up hurt. The thought was not comforting, and he found himself going over rather horrible scenarios in his head, which only increased the bruising pace his heart pounded against his chest bone.

     “Severus,” He blinked and refocused. Albus was sitting beside him; eyes still dilated, pheromones billowing off of him and making Severus’s insides warm and produce more lubricant. Severus was ashamed to see the very slight tent in the older man’s robes, and looked away; why couldn’t he do this? Why couldn’t he just  _do_ it and get it over with? He’d agreed to this, to do this so that they might work past everything.

     “I’m scared.” He breathed out in a whisper, looking at his own knees.

      “I won’t hurt you,” Albus’s voice was soft, but there was still an edge to it, something that wasn’t normally there, and it only reminded Severus of what they were doing; what  _he_ was doing.

     “I know, so why am I scared?”

The older man reached up and carded his fingers through black hair, stroking Severus’s scalp before sliding down to gently stroke over the bonding gland. The touch was gentle, uninsistent, but Severus gasped and whimpered, his head falling forward; he swayed slightly where he sat, his muscles refusing to support his weight. Albus pulled him to lean against him, preventing him from falling off the bed. He continued to run his thumb over the invisible gland until all of the strain and anxiety disappeared. Once he felt that the Omega was no longer anxious, he removed his hand, and once he knew that the other man wouldn’t fall over, stood up and shed his outer robes. Severus watched him, pushing himself farther back onto the bed and removing his sodden dark gray pants, tossing them off the edge of the bed.

His heart still pounded, but the Alpha’s patience with him had calmed him a bit. Albus would never hurt him, and would take strides to assure his comfort. He bent his knees and spread his thighs as the older man, now only in his under robe, his own pants discarded carelessly, climbed over him. He knew that the Alpha wouldn’t find this position ideal, but he’d be desperate enough not to try and remaneuver him.

Severus sighed as he felt the other man atop him, positioning against him, and closed his eyes. The other’s scent was delicious, and he was glad for the calm he felt and the spark of anticipation that had reignited in his gut.

     “Please don’t hate me.” He whispered, the closest thing he’d ever have to a prayer, gasping as he was breached and stretched.

 

*******

 

     When Albus came to himself he felt warm and heavy, but drowsy. The cover over him was heavier than his own, and the sheets were crisper; inhaling he picked up the salty smells of sweat, sex, and the faintest traces of pheromones. His eyes opened, his vision slightly blurred without his glasses as he recalled the conversation he’d had in his office earlier that morning. Shifting he glanced around to find that he was in Severus’s room, the slender young man curled up beneath the blankets beside him. He vaguely remembered joining the potions professor in his rooms, but besides that his memory was fuzzy; it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together however, and he settled back against the pillow, gazing at the back of the other man’s head.

He could hear the other man’s breathing, and knew that it was too shallow for him to be sleeping. Shifting between the covers again, Albus reached forward and gently touch the other’s naked shoulder. Without much prompting, the younger man rolled onto his back, and met his gaze.

      “Are you alright?” Albus inquired gently, letting his hand slide to rest in the middle of the other’s chest; he could feel the steady beating of the younger man’s heart against his palm. Severus’s dark eyes looked tired, as though he hadn’t gotten much sleep.

      “I’m fine,” Severus said quietly, though his gaze slipped from Albus’s eyes to the corner of his mouth. “It was good,” Severus continued. “The sex I mean. It was good. My memories of the heat were to hazy to really say whether or not it had been good, but, this time was.”

     “I didn’t hurt you?”

      “No.” Severus assured. “You didn’t hurt me.” He inhaled deeply, meeting the older man’s gaze again. “Albus, I never want to do that again.”

Albus nodded, pulling the other man against him. Severus’s skin felt warm against his own as they lay together in each other’s arms.

     “No, of course not.” Albus gently began carding his fingers through the other’s black hair, sighing. He felt oddly calm, content to lay in the other man’s bed and embrace him.

      “Severus,” He inquired after a time. “Do you still wish to keep the bond?”

      “Yes, if you still aren’t against it.”

      “Not at all. I must ask you though, why did you use Sheffield and Gibbin’s for our little ‘play’ earlier this morning?”

      “Because they are perhaps the least offensive students in their year.” Severus said with a slight shrug against Albus’s chest. “It was easy to pretend that they were terrible with the knowledge that they really weren’t.” Severus sat up, the covers sliding from his shoulders as he leaned over Albus.

There were yellow and red bruises forming around his neck and along his collarbone, and Albus felt the urge to trace each one with a finger.

     “Albus, my next heat is in February.” Severus stated, and though his voice was calm, and his gaze steady, there was something hesitant in his body language. Albus smiled, and gently rubbed along the other’s arm.

     “Yes it is.”

     “I was wondering, should I, well I wouldn’t mind staying on the suppressant. I’m quite used to it—”

      “Or, we could spend it together, properly.” Albus shifted to rest his weight on his elbows, reaching up to cradle the other’s pale cheek. “I would love to spend a proper heat with you, my dear.” Severus couldn’t quite help the small smile that curled the corners of his mouth. Leaning down, he pressed his lips gently against the Headmaster’s, his mustache and beard tickling his nose and chin. The kiss was soft, chaste, and Albus remembered how little experience the younger wizard really had. He looked forward to exploring the possibilities.

     “Could I convince you to join me in a mid morning tumble?” Severus inquired as their lips parted. There was a devious glimmer in the younger man’s dark eyes, and Albus felt a mischievous smile come over him.

      “Oh I think that I could be persuaded.”

 

*******

 

      Persuasion for mid morning sex ( _which looked to be turning into late morning sex_ ) took the form of a quick clean up and small breakfast. Albus was just finishing his small plate of toast and fruit when Severus exited the bathroom, damp hair clinging to his face and neck, towel knotted firmly around his hips.

      “Feeling better, love?”

      “Immensely.” Severus stated, stealing a bit of crust that Albus hadn’t bothered to finish and nibbling at it. Albus set the plate aside and stood up; after his own quick shower he’d only bothered to put on his thin under robe; what was the point in dressing if they only intended to undress again?

      “I’d like to kiss you now.” Albus stated simply, smiling calmly at the younger man. Severus’s dark eyes gazed steadily at him as he licked his lips, nodding his ascent. Though they’d shared hard kisses during his heat, as well as a few chaste ones, it struck Severus that this would be their first ‘proper’ kiss. The idea thrilled him! This would also be the first time that they would be sharing each other’s bodies while both were in their right mind; apparently it was to be a day of firsts.

Albus gently cradled the slightly shorter man’s damp jaw and pressed their lips together; Severus’s lips were soft, and he added just a small amount of insistence to the kiss. Severus yielded easily, parting his lips with only a little prompting. Albus let his tongue slide into the other’s mouth, licking into the unfamiliar heat. Albus sighed and Severus let out a feint noise as their tongues swirled together.

Albus sucked the other’s tongue gently but insistently, their kiss growing wet the longer their lips remained meshed together; Severus tilted his head, straining to remain glued to the other man’s lips, eyes sliding shut. He gripped the loose sleeve of Albus’s under robe, quiet sounds of pleasure and uncertainty escaping him; Albus hungrily devoured each sound as it came. For ever press of lips, and stroke of tongue, Severus mimicked the older wizard; he was a bit sloppier due to inexperience, but he didn’t hesitate and Albus hummed his happy approval.

Albus let his hand slip to cradle the back of the dark man’s neck, his fingers pressed against the bonding gland and causing Severus to whine; neither of them were hindered by their need to breed, but the gland was always sensitive. His knees buckling slightly, Severus found himself leaning into the older man’s body for support, thin robe and towel the only thing between them.

      “Let us reposition, dear.” Severus opened his eyes at the slightly breathless voice, and was rather pleased to note the flush that had colored the older man’s face; his lips were shiny, swollen, and red; a vivid contrast to the white of his mustache and beard. Severus permitted himself to be drawn forward as Albus sat back on the sofa; he sank to his knees, kneeling between the other man’s knees. Albus undid the tie of his under robe, pushing the thin material aside revealing himself  _really_ for the first time to his younger lover. Perhaps he should have felt embarrassed, but he didn’t; being over a century old, he felt that he had no reason to be at all ashamed in his body.

Gathering up his beard in his hand he draped it over his shoulder to keep it out of the way; perhaps he should invest in tying it whenever they were together like this. Severus drank in the other man’s appearance.

      His skin was withered and soft, but there was no denying the traces of muscle beneath the skin. For a man his age, Dumbledore was holding up impressively well! Severus began again to wonder what the man might have looked like in his prime; and as before, he couldn’t quite imagine it. The pale chest was sprinkled with sparse white hair. Severus was sure that he could count them if he so desired, and thought that perhaps sometime he would The slender stomach rolled only slightly, and Severus knew that were the older wizard standing there wouldn’t have been any pudge at all; he never would have guessed that the older man was so thin beneath all of those layers he wore. After drinking in the other’s appearance for what might have been too long a period of time ( _Severus was grateful for the other man’s patience_ ) he leaned forward and took the other man’s member in hand.

It was half hard, and he rubbed and stroked it till it was fully lengthened and hard, and taught. Albus’s let his eyes close and his head tilt back slightly as Severus worked at him. Severus enjoyed fondling the other man’s cock; it was so different than his own. Albus’s cock was longer, and perhaps just a little thicker, though the girth was not unbelievable for the man’s build. He enjoyed the weight of it against his palm, and the way he could feel it pulse and twitch as he stroked it. What he found most interesting of all was the fact that the older man was circumcised; though Severus was familiar with other men’s cocks, he’d never known anyone who was circumcised. Severus also found that Albus’s member was perhaps less intimidating when the other wizard was not in rut; as aroused as the man was, there was no visible knot to contend with; something Severus found curious and would have to ask about later.

      Once Severus was certain that the other man wouldn’t be deflating on him, he leaned his head forward and licked from the base to the head, leaving a long wet stripe against the skin. Albus moaned above him, and clear liquid began to rise to the slit at the head. He licked a few more times from root to tip before wrapping his lips around the flushed head, licking the fluid before sinking himself down; as he went he sucked as best he could, saliva pooling in his mouth and slickening the other’s flushed length. He moved up and down on the other’s cock, hands braced against soft thighs. His lips stretched with each downward pass; he could feel the taught skin at the corners of his lips straining.

Once he was certain that the angle was right and he wouldn’t hurt himself, Severus began bobbing his head steadily. On each upward stroke he’d hallow his cheeks and suck, his tongue swirling around the head before he’d go back down.

      “You’re beautiful,” Albus sighed, lifting his head, eyes focusing on the younger wizard between his legs. His face was flushed hot with arousal as he watched the pale man bob up and down on his cock, thin lips turned pink with the effort. Severus kept up his pace for several long minutes, his shoulders aching slightly from his position, his own cock hard beneath his towel. He tried not to squirm as he shifted to relieve his aching knees, but his cock rubbed against the towel only stirring the desperate need for stimulation. He wished that he could rut against the sofa, but the angle wouldn’t permit it. He released a small noise of annoyance before releasing cock in his mouth with a wet pop. He took a few deep lung fulls of air, before leaning back down and taking the other’s hard arousal back into his mouth. Albus shifted slightly, careful not to jostle the other man, and slipped a leg between the other’s knees.

Severus sighed as he bobbed, shifting himself so that he could rest his prick and balls against the other’s leg; he wished that the towel was gone, so that he could feel skin to skin, but he was grateful for any relief. He rolled his hips to relieve himself while he continued to bob and drool over Albus’s cock. As he rocked against the older man, his rhythm faltered, but a gentle hand to the back of his head and he let himself be guided. He sucked and swallowed around the flesh in his mouth, whining as he rutted. A few strands of damp hair had fallen into his face, clinging to his forehead annoyingly. Albus’s moans, and Severus’s strangled whines mingled in the living room, but before either could go any farther Albus gently but firmly pulled Severus off of him. Severus stilled, straddling the other’s leg, towel hanging loosely around his hips; he knew if he were to stand it would fall away.

     “You’re wonderful, Love. You do that beautifully.” Albus praised, shifting forward on the sofa and standing up. Severus backed up so that he was sitting on his heels, the towel falling from his hips to lie across his calves. “This will ease your neck.” Severus was grateful for the angle change, and leaned forward; but rather than sink back onto the other’s cock, he went a little lower and sucked on the delicate loose skin of the other’s sac. He tongued the salty flesh before sucking one of the little round orbs into his mouth. He could hear Albus sigh and moan above him. He suckled on the testicle for a moment before carefully, and with a small bit of a effort, managed to open his mouth wider and draw both into his mouth, were he let them rest against his tongue.

He swallowed carefully ever so often, but otherwise remained still; the soft sounds that Albus made above him made his own cock jump. The older man’s own hardened length pulsed against the top of his forehead, but he focused on carefully hallowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue around the loose balls in his mouth; he continued this until the testicles tightened up and he had to firm up his lips to keep them from escaping. But, despite being perfectly content to have his lover cum like that, the older man apparently was not; carefully he was pulled away till the little orbs popped from his mouth, coated liberally in saliva, a thin trail clinging to Severus’s chin. He looked curiously up at the other man, whose chest was rising and falling with apparent effort.

      “I think enough of that,” Albus panted, cheeks flushed and skin coated in a thin layer of sweat. He stooped down, and despite his haggard sate, lifted Severus easily to his feet. “Much longer and this tumble would be quite over.” He said with a slight smile, looking down to take in all of the naked younger man before him; Severus felt his ears burn a little but ignored it; he’d been naked in front of this man twice now, and figured that embarrassment was something that he could live without.

     “Besides, I’d much rather spend inside of you,” Albus slid a hand down the curve of Severus’s back and over his rump. Severus gasped; as the hand slipped between his cheeks, he could feel his internal passage slowly become coated with thick lubricant. Unlike the slick he produced, this was strictly old fashioned.

He’d never used the spell himself, nor had he seen it been used; all of Lucius’s friends rather enjoyed the slow process of personally applying it to themselves or to others. Albus slipped a finger into the lubed passage, testing its slickness before letting a second finger slip in to test the resistance; his other hand wrapped around the straining erection that poked him in the hip and began massaging. His strokes were calculated and his grip was firm; and between that and the fingers scissoring between his cheeks Severus began to worry that he’d get off right then and there. Severus glanced up at the older man, panting slightly as he was worked slowly at both ends. Albus smiled his small calm smile, and Severus’s stomach twisted pleasantly; Albus certainly wouldn’t have blamed him if he came like that, he was patient. And between the two of them, if one were to come prematurely, Severus’s recovery rate was considerably faster; but he didn’t want to cum yet, not without the other man inside of him.

With perhaps more effort than it was worth, Severus detached himself from the other man and moved around him to kneel on the sofa; bracing himself on his knees and elbows, he rested his head on the arm rest, black curtains of hair falling forward to obscure his vision. He felt Albus join him on the sofa, gently taking hold of his hips and pulling them back; Severus lifted his head and couldn’t help but begin panting again as the other’s cock bumped against his entrance.

      “I’m going to enter you now, Severus,” was his warning before the other’s cock pushed slowly inside, forcing out a groan as he was stretched; there wasn’t really much resistance, he’d been primally fucked only a handful of hours earlier and his muscles were still quite pliant.

Once Albus had sank all the way in, and pulled out a bit to test the friction, he began a quick driving rhythm, hard and fast, hands wrapped around Severus’s hips to draw him back to meet each thrust. Severus remained relax, let himself flow into the rocking motion, his head hung down nearly to the cushion beneath him, lips parted as he panted and groaned.

His ass burned as he was split open and given a proper and calculated fuck. The sensation of being  _knowingly_ had was enough to make his skin overheat, and his chest and stomach clench pleasantly. With every forward thrust, a slight  _crack_ of skin on skin was heard, and Severus’s balls bumped against the other man’s, colliding as the pairs swung freely. He could feel a tremble begin to enter his bones, and pressed his head against the cushion, moaning low and long as the sensation built.

Albus bent forward a little, his thrusts slowing a bit and becoming more shallow but no less firm. He humped quickly over the younger man’s back, left hand slipping farther around to wrap around the hard prick bobbing between young thighs. He tugged at the other’s member, and the moans and cries that had been relatively low in volume grew louder.

Severus couldn’t handle the hand jerking his cock against the rhythm of their fucking, it was too much. But before he could even begin to try and hold on, he felt Albus’s hips thrust sharp and hard, flush against his ass, and the ram rode hard cock imbedded inside of him twitch and spurt. Severus gasped, his own orgasm close, the coil in his gut almost painfully tight; Albus was gasping behind him, his cock throbbing inside of him; this was a proper orgasm, still wild in sensation but not enough to overfill him with cum; not that he really minded over flowing with the other man’s seed.

Severus felt the other man bend over him, warm skin molding against his back.

     “Cum love, it’s alright.” A few more quick strokes and Severus had no choice; heat flared up inside of him wildly, and he gasped and cried as his body convulsed and his breath caught in his throat. His cock spasmed and twitched as he spurted against the sofa cushions, three, four, five times; his entire body was thrumming. Only once his orgasm had completely subsided did he remember how to breathe.


	8. Concerns of Bonding

     The term of the New Year started as it always did, with a small controlled level of panic. January brought with it heavier workloads for the students, and reminders that final exams weren’t really that far away; only a matter of months.

  
The teachers wouldn’t yet start reminding the students to ‘ _study, study, study_ ’ every other class, but every few weeks or so they’d slip in some information that would need to be double underlined, bolded, and repeated several times; all because they’d hint that it just _might_ come up in their exams.  
Second year students up through fourth year students weren’t panicking yet; they knew the drill, and knew that they had a good month or two before they’d have to really get themselves into gear. First years, Fifth Years, and Seventh Years however were all feeling the onset of panic; which amused basically the rest of the school in its entirety.

Snape enjoyed the tension among his older students, and though he knew the tension among his first years was mostly unneeded, he used it to his advantage to get the younger students to pay attention and work harder in his class.

  
He’d never been one for coddling, and never hesitated to state baldly how poorly a student was doing. Many thought him cruel for this, but he didn’t care; he saw no advantages in lying to a child and telling them ‘ _oh if you just work a little harder_ ,’ or ‘ _apply yourself ‘here’, ‘here’, and ‘here’ you’ll do fine_ ’, when that was obviously not the case. No, he wouldn’t lie to his students. If they were lousy, he’d tell them.

  
He often found that the harsh truth and realities were what pushed students to either try harder, or give up all together. He wheedled out the weak, so to speak.  
After all, when it came to the science of potion making, no one could help you improve; only you could push yourself to do so. Not all students could do it, their understanding of the art to limited; but so long as they worked hard and didn’t cause trouble, Snape would mostly leave them alone. So they wouldn’t become potioneers when they left school, at least they’d get a decent grade.

  
Snape wasn’t the only teacher who used the student’s stresses to their advantage though; McGonagall could be just as harsh with her students as he was with his own. Her stern disposition however, well known among the students, often saved her from the title of _cruel_.  
Snape always found this fact interesting; where he was titled _cruel_ , she was merely titled _stern_ or _harsh_. What was the difference really?  
He certainly never gave out as harsh or dangerous detentions as she did. He supposed however, that the differences didn’t really matter; he’d been casted as a nasty vicious teacher, and he accepted it without question; after all, it made it easier to keep people at a distance when they feared you.

 

*******

 

     The Staff meeting that had taken place in the teacher’s study came to a close, much later than any of them had thought; all of the teachers left with moaned parting words as some headed back to their rooms to sleep, and the other’s headed off for patrol duty.

  
Snape had been on patrol duty for three nights in a row, this being his fourth, and was not entirely enthusiastic about it; he had tests to grade, essays to read, and no less than five detentions to plan; he was sorely tempted to dump at least two of them on another teacher.  
Standing and stretching, he muttered a farewell to Filch, who had been pestering him for the last month about trying to get harsher punishments implemented for students caught wandering the school after hours; Snape was all for harsher punishments, but perhaps not as harsh and what Filch had in mind. He assured the crotchety caretaker that they’d talk again soon, having noted that Madam Pince had been eyeing them for the last fifteen minutes of the meeting; she obviously wanted the opportunity to get the caretaker alone for a few minutes.

  
Snape had often wondered about the two, there were certainly rumors that the Librarian fancied the caretaker; Pince was an averagely attractive woman, with a fine cut face, and slender beaky nose. She was certainly far too attractive for someone like Filch, and Snape wondered what the woman saw in the grumpy old man.

     Exiting the staff room, Snape headed off for the fifth floor, where he was scheduled to patrol. While on his way he met up with McGonagall, who was lingering about though she was not on patrol duty; the older woman often did this, Snape noted. Only once she was sure that everyone who _was_ on duty was where they ought to be could she retire for the evening.

  
      “Minerva,” He said with a slight nod of his head as they fell into step together, climbing the stairs towards the upper floors. She nodded back curtly in greeting as they climbed the steps.

  
     “Those staff meetings seem to get longer and longer every year,” She mused with a tired sigh.  
    

     “It only feels that way because we seem to be constantly repeating the same nonsense over and over.” He grumbled in response. Her lips curled in a slight smile as they walked together.

     “So it would seem.” She said glancing sideways at him. “You’d think we’d learn.”  
He snorted.

  
       “We learn, but so do the students. For every step we take in keeping the little brats safe and instilling order, they learn new forms of idiocy.”  
She actually chuckled at that as she continued onto a staircase that would take her farther up; Snape paused at the bottom of the stairs watching as she went. She paused part way up and turned to look back at him, hand on the stone banister.

     “They do, don’t they? I suppose that’s the gift of youth, the ability to think up new and exciting things. Now if only they’d put that inventive energy towards their schooling.”  
His own lips quirked upwards slightly.

      “Now why would they want to make our lives easier?” He nodded at her again and turned to begin his patrol. “Good evening,”

      “Good evening, Severus.” She called back before they parted company.

 

 

       Prowling along the fifth floor corridor, the lonely quiet made the dark clad figure keenly aware of how tired he was. He could feel the weariness in his bones, and the throb in his feet and knees; even his brain felt utterly disconnected from his spinal cord.  
These late night patrols would be the death of him; he honestly didn’t mind the work, but the constant early mornings and late nights would ware even him down.  
Coming to pause beneath a particularly strange tapestry, Snape gazed at the moving stitch work without really seeing it; his mood was sour due to lack of sleep and he pitied anyone he came across who shouldn’t be out of bed.

      By two-thirty in the morning, Snape felt dead on his feet, though he masked it relatively well; he was grateful for the end of his patrol shift, and eager to return to his quarters and get some much needed sleep; even four hours sleep sounded heavenly.  
He got waylaid once or twice; first by a wandering door, forcing him to backtrack to take a different passageway, and then by Peeves the Poltergeist who he had to threaten in order to get the specter out of his way. Luckily he found Peeves rather easy to bully; as head of Slytherin house, the Bloody Baron practically lived in his back pocket. So, when the Poltergeist was feeling particularly uncooperative Snape played his trump card.

 

      Once he was back down in the dungeons it was nearly three in the morning, and Snape entertained the idea of cancelling his classes the following morning. He wouldn’t of course. It took quite a lot for him to cancel classes; even when he was ill ( _which rarely happened_ ) and forced into bed to rest he also had _someone_ watch over the class and use a prepared lesson plan for just such an occasion; usually a pop quiz. Hell, if he were going to be miserable sick in bed all day, might as well spread the misery.  
After shedding his robes and clothes, he pulled on his baggy sweatpants and large gray shirt; when he was a child he ‘hated’ baggy clothes, which was why everything he owned fit him to a ‘T’. But he found that the bagging sleep wear was still the most comfortable.

  
Tossing his clothes and robes into the laundry basket he crawled into bed and collapsed against the sheets with a slight groan. Every joint and muscle seemed to scream its joy at finally being able to rest; all but his feet, which seemed still content to throb uncomfortably.  
Late night patrol was going to be the death of him.

 

*******

 

      January seemed to creep along at an agonizingly slow pace, even though Snape found himself kept rather busy; between his classes, detention, and other staffing duties he rarely had a free moment to breathe.  
He supposed that this was perhaps, a blessing in disguise; being busy kept him from wandering up to the Headmaster’s office all of the time, and at ungodly hours. Being busy forced him to focus, and even when there was a lull he refused to let the feeble bond that still linked him to the older wizard control his actions.  
He would not let himself be reduced to a swooning love struck fool!

He did _not_ need the Headmaster’s attention or companionship twenty-four-fucking-seven!

It was a struggle, but one he was willing to take his time and work through; what was one more obstacle to overcome?

Dumbledore was understanding, and Snape was thankful for that; the older wizard did not insist upon their Thursday night meetings, though he did assure Snape that he was more than welcome; something Snape appreciated, even if only silently.  
He was glad that the Headmaster recognized that this feeble bond affected him more strongly, and that he ‘needed’ to work through it on his own.

      Admittedly all of the energy Snape wasted on trying to overcome the bonds pull was exhausting and made him think about it perhaps a bit too deeply. He began wondering if a full fledge bond would be worse; would he become completely subservient to the Headmaster? Would he be unable to fight off the urges to be with the other man constantly?

He had to admit that his knowledge of their kind was woefully limited, and unfortunately there was little history available to him at Hogwarts; he’d read everything on his kind that the library had to offer when he’d been a student in school, and there wasn’t much. What there was was a basic overview of their kind, and the basic dynamics, nothing more, nothing less.

None of the books went into the ‘ _bond_ ’ that mates shared beyond stating that it brought the two mated closer together than any two people could expect; there had also been a few footnotes on special abilities that the bond _might_ bring out in the mated individuals, but there’d never been actual proof of altered abilities and talents.  
There was nothing to tell him if he would somehow lose part of himself, and that made him ‘very’ uncomfortable.  
Severus mulled what he knew, and what he felt, and what he feared, over and over again in his mind; he knew that he needed to come up with a game plan before his heat, but no matter how hard he thought things over, he seemed merely to think in circles. He could come up with no solutions, only more problems.

 

      It wasn’t until the last day in January that Snape realized how much time he’d wasted, and how little time he had left till his heat; it was alarming to discover while grading homework assignments that it was the last of the month already. January had seemed to go by at a snail’s pace, and then suddenly he looked up and it was almost February!  
He knew that he would have to talk to the Headmaster; perhaps the elderly wizard could help him sort everything out, since he’d been having no luck on his own. He once again felt extreme gratitude towards the man, who he knew wouldn’t think him foolish for having such a crisis over what should have been a rather simple dilemma.  
So, once he’d finished grading the last of the homework assignments, he set them aside, extinguished the torches in his office, and headed out to speak with the Headmaster.

 

       Snape found the dark disserted corridors a comfort as he made his way steadily upwards from the dungeons towards the Headmaster’s tower office. Most if not all of the paintings were sound asleep, and he knew all of the other teachers patrol routs, so he could avoid running into anybody if he chose too.  
He was more comfortable like this, alone, in the dark, away from prying eyes, and judgmental sneers.  
He wouldn’t say that the other teacher’s at Hogwarts _hated_ him per se, they respected him for his talent, but there was still a certain sense of _dislike_. He knew he shouldn’t complain, it was mostly his doing that kept the other teachers from getting close, but it was lonely sometimes.

  
At times, when Snape was feeling particularly melancholy, he couldn’t help but notice the other teachers talk amongst themselves; they all had group of friends, people they chose to associate with more often than any others. He’d never had that, not really.  
He’d chosen to keep everyone at a distance, for his own safety, and partially for their own benefit as well; he knew things were better this way, but sometimes the looks he would receive would send an unpleasant sensation along his skin; those looks, sometimes they reminded him of the way his mother had looked at him.

 

 

     Halfway up towards the Headmaster’s office, Snape came across the man he sought in a lonely moonlit corridor; he hadn’t noticed the man at first, and had had to backtrack to be sure he’d seen him at all.

Dumbledore was standing near a window, humming quietly to himself as he gazed out over the school grounds; the suit of armor that ought to have been standing on the plinth to the right of the window had gone wandering off at some point, leaving the corridor quite bare save for the Headmaster.

Snape approached quietly, not bothering to say anything as he joined the man, shooting a curious glance out of the window as well. He wondered what the other man found so interesting; but knowing the Headmaster, it was probably something no one else would understand.

      “Good evening, Severus.” Dumbledore greeted quietly a moment later, his odd little humming tune dying in his throat. Snape turned his attention back to the older wizard, not finding the darkened grounds of the school remotely interesting.

      “Headmaster, I was just on my way to your office.” He stated, his own voice quiet though there was really no reason for it to be; the corridor that they stood in had no portraits to wake up, and it was miles away from any dormitory or private room.

     “Were you really?” Dumbledore inquired, turning to look down at the slightly shorter man, silver brows raised slightly and calm smile making his mustache twitch; his blue eyes were alight as he gazed down at Snape, who noted that the Headmaster seemed to be in a rather good mood; not that he’d be able to tell if the Headmaster was not if the older wizard didn’t wish to reveal it.

       “Yes, I feel that with the closing of January we need to talk.”

       “Of course my boy, if that is what you wish.” Dumbledore assented pleasantly, clasping his hands in front of him and waiting expectantly. Snape wasn’t sure how comfortable he felt talking about what he wished to talk about in the open; what if a patrol were to go by and another professor were to hear them? Or what if, heaven forbid, a student was wandering around and accidently overheard them?

But Dumbledore seemed perfectly content to remain where they were, and Snape supposed that it would be a waste of time to try and force the man to return to his office; he’d obviously left it to stretch his legs and clear his mind.

       “I wanted to talk to you about the bond, the full bond,” he clarified, turning his attention back towards the window; he placed his hands on the stone windowsill and peered out through the glass, but not really seeing it. “I wondered if you might know what the bond is, or does.” His voice was quiet, but there was a trace of unease in the tone, something that Dumbledore didn’t fail to pick up on.  
Albus eyed the younger man for a few moments, taking all of him in as he thought over what he’d said. Severus was obviously uncomfortable, but doing a rather marvelous job pretending not to be.

      “Well, it is exactly what it sounds like, a bond that will link you and I for the rest of our lives; Severus, I realize that it was your choice _not_ to sever the bond that attempted to link us together, but if you’ve changed your mind—”

  
       “I haven’t changed my mind,” Severus cut in, shooting a quick frown at the other man before returning his unseeing gaze back to the window. “I’m just poorly uneducated, and,” He sighed, his fingers digging into the stone sill a little. “I know part of it is the feeble bond, this desire to be with you, but it’s more than that, Albus.” He continued his voice tight with confused feelings. “I want to be with you because you’ve given me something that I’ve never had before, I can’t even fully understand it, but even so I want it.” His fingers pressed even more firmly against the sill, his pale knuckles turning white. “But I’m afraid,” He admitted, the word sounding forced. “I’m afraid of what the bond might do. What if it changes who I am? I don’t want to change who I am, Albus. I never have. This is who I am, this unappealing, unfriendly, prickly man is who I am. I don’t want that to change. I don’t want the way I see the world to change, or the way I see myself, or others. What if the bond changes that? What if I lose who I am?” He asked, turning sharply to look the other man in the face; finally voicing his worries seemed to have triggered something inside of him, and he found that he couldn’t quite hold any of it back.

  
        “I have never had any material things in my life worth keeping. I’ve never had acclaim or popularity, or anything so many people think worth having. The only thing that I’ve ever had is the knowledge of who I am, and it is the only thing that I’ve managed to hold onto. I don’t want to lose that too.”

Despite the unpredictable and rather tumult emotions and thoughts that he’d been dealing with for a little over the past month, the soft hand against his jaw was quite welcome. Even though he knew it was mostly the bonds doing, he couldn’t help but feel calmer when in the Headmaster’s company; closing his eyes, he focused on the sensation of the older man’s hand gently caressing his jaw before long fingers brushed through his hair.

      “Ah my love, you do fret over the silliest things,” Albus chuckled softly, stroking the other’s hair and running his nails along the other’s scalp. A line appeared between the younger man’s brow and dark eyes opened to focus on him as the younger man frowned at him.  
He couldn’t help but smile, his other hand cradling the hallow cheek as he leaned in and gently let the tips of their noses brush. “I can assure you my dear; a fully formed bond won’t take anything away from you.”

      “But—”

      “Shhh, no buts.” Albus said quietly, pressing his lips softly and briefly against the other’s. “You will continue to be the man that you are now, fully cognizant, and free willed. The only change that will come will be between us.” He assured, letting his hand slide down to rest against the other’s chest; he could feel the younger man’s heart beat steading gently against his palm.

      “How will things change between us?” Severus inquired, and Albus could see the faint signs of stress at the corners of the other’s eyes.

      “We will become more aware of one another, picking up on each other’s emotions and moods while together; our abilities to read each other’s queues will heighten considerably. You might just find some sense of peace, and I no doubt will find myself with far more energy than usual; our age differences will account for that,” He clarified, seeing the slight confusion in the other man’s dark eyes. “The bond will connect us, as such; part of your youthful energy will be given to me, and the calm of age given to you. It will be subtle, barely noticeable, but there nonetheless.”

      “And, will we,” Severus glanced down, apparently searching for the least offensive words to use, “will we have to, have to have sex?”

       “Certainly not,” Albus said simply. “the bond does not require us to engage in sexual activities at all, though it will make the urges to do so when one of us enters our mating cycle heightened, which of course can be handled easily enough with suppressants.”  
Severus seemed to sigh in relief, visibly relaxing further against the window frame. Albus let his fingers slide from black hair and rest against a narrow shoulder.

      “I’m glad to hear it.”

      “Was that one of your concerns?” Albus inquired, voice remaining just as quiet, if not a bit more casual. Severus blinked and started slightly, lifting a hand to cover the one pressed against his chest.

     “Oh, no, well, yes, but not why you must think!” He said quickly, his dark voice rising in an alarmed whisper. “I have enjoyed our times spent together, enjoyed your attentions very much,” He assured. “but I am still rather new to sex,” He stated, his pale sallow cheeks darkening slightly. “and not that I am not interested, and I could certainly be persuaded, but…” He gave the older man a helpless look. “but sex has never really been a big focus of my life.”  
Albus smiled kindly back at him.  
 

      “Nor mine.” He stated. “I understand completely love, and certainly wouldn’t require you to fulfill sexual acts whatsoever. You should never feel pressured into sex, and never hesitate to disengage.”

      “Thank you, Albus. I cannot think of a reason why I would, but it is good to know that I can should I wish to.”

      “Of course my love,” Albus said with a kind smile, leaning in and pressing another chaste kiss to the other man’s lips. “If you have any more concerns, please do not hesitate to voice them.”

        “Only one other,” Severus said, looking into the other man’s piercing blue eyes as their noses brushed slightly. “How can we possibly not be missed for an entire week?”

       “Ah, I have come up with a plan.” Albus assured, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

 

*******

 

      As the first few days of February passed by, Snape felt himself steadily becoming more and more on edge; since the first of the month he’d had to steadily decrease his suppressant intake until he was only taking the bare minimum that was necessary to keep his scent camouflaged.  
The last thing he needed was for a student to present as an Alpha while he wasn’t on the suppressants; that is a scene he’d rather _not_ have to deal with in his classroom.  
But Albus had assured him that the likelihood of something such as that occurring was terribly unlikely, but agreed that the bare minimum of suppressant should be taken. It wouldn’t do for Snape to have to physically strong arm a student out of his classroom; something that both Albus and Snape knew he was more than willing to do.

Snape had never seen a student present as an Alpha during his time working at Hogwarts; and had any presented while he was in school it was hushed up very carefully.

Albus had presented two weeks into his seventh year at Hogwarts, and had been fortunate enough to have a very good friend to keep him from harming any Omegas that might have been in the school; said friend had taken jinx or two and even a few good lumps during that week, something Albus had apologized for repeatedly. His friend had luckily enough, been a kind gentle young man who’d waved away his apologies and simply assured Albus that no hard feelings were felt and that his secret would be safe with him; and to this very day Albus’s status as an Alpha had not once slipped past his friends lips, something that he was incredibly grateful for.

Albus had only been personally present for one Alpha presenting during his early years as a professor; other’s head heard about from other teachers or been informed of when he was headmaster; of course not all students who presented were known about, some like Severus, were clever enough to keep their condition under wraps.

       The young man who had presented in Albus’s Advanced Transfiguration class had been surprise, but a rather familiar surprise; the young man had presented halfway through his seventh year, and with a bit of strong arming, and a lot of guidance from Albus, he’d come to manage his nature; eventually bonding and marrying a very lovely squib woman named Arietty, and siring two traditional wizards and one squib.

       So, whenever Snape was feeling particularly on edge or paranoid, he’d remind himself of Albus’s plan for his upcoming heat, going over the details in his head and letting them help calm him. Albus was thorough with his planning, and Snape had to admire the thought that the Headmaster had put into it.

The plan was for Severus and Albus to cloister themselves in Albus’s personal chambers, with occasional house elf check ins; Albus’s absence for a week would be easily explained away due to his frequent comings and goings, though Minerva ( _who was in on their plan, something Snape had at first been against_ ) would be the only person permitted to contact them should any emergencies arise.

Snape’s absence was something a little harder to explain, but for the last week he’d let slip a few comments that he wasn’t feeling well to Professor’s that he knew wouldn’t bugger him to go to Madam Pompfry. Minerva too would spread the rumor that Snape had fallen ill and would be back on his feet in no time if anyone asked too many questions; and, if it was absolutely necessary, she would inform Poppy, should the nurse catch wind of any unchecked illnesses.

It wasn’t really a perfect plan, but Snape could be assured that no one would accidently come across them; he only hoped the Universe would grant him leave and not throw any emergencies their way for at least a week; whatever happened after his heat he could care less about.

 

*******

 

      It was the afternoon on the twelfth that Snape felt the heat begin to creep up on him; it started out as a mere itch beneath his skin, making him feel tight and irritated. But, he managed to control his irritability through his afternoon potion lessons, which he thought was rather miraculous; by the end of the class he’d felt as though his blood was bubbling in his veins, and a tense tingling at the base of his spine left him feeling rather violent.

He’d put the ‘ **canceled class** ’ sign on his door at that point, and headed for the Headmaster’s office. His progress was slow, mostly due to the business of the school, and his need to backtrack and take short cuts and secret passageways to avoid certain people.

This was his first heat while the school was inhabited by students, and his heightened senses were making him paranoid; he could _smell_ subtle pheromones from amongst the students, but due to the sheer number of kids couldn’t pin point where they were coming from. Mostly the pheromones were of betas, a more common occurrence in their day and age; but once or twice he thought he scented an Alpha, prompting him to backtrack and get as far away from the smell as possible.

  
If there were any Alphas among the students, he didn’t know about them, which lead him to the conclusion that they’d presented in front of another teacher, or had presented at home. Where the students were concerned, the teacher’s were discreet.

  
The teachers knew of the existence of Alphas, Omegas, and Betas, but they never spoke about it; it was something almost taboo and only brought up if an incident had occurred or a teacher felt unequipped to deal with it.

  
McGonagall, as it turned out, dealt with any presenting students; now that Snape was aware of her status as a Beta it made sense; she wouldn’t be affected by the scents of presenting Alphas or Omegas, not detrimentally anyway. Snape also supposed that back in his student days, Slughorn probably would have also had a hand in the handling of students; he wasn’t sure if that was a comfort or not.

 

      Once Snape eventually made it to the Headmaster’s office, which he found empty, he did as they’d planned and made his way up the spiral staircase at the back of the office towards the Headmaster’s personal quarters; he was to wait there until Dumbledore could join him.  
Snape hesitated at the wooden door, a slight shiver crawling up his spine; he’d never seen the Headmaster’s personal quarters, and felt a little apprehensive; but after a moment his curiosity and the warmth beginning to spread inside of him got the better of him and he slipped into the room.

 

      The room, like the office, was circular, and would have felt quite cool and open had the walls not been lined with bookshelves of all sizes. All of the wall space was taken up by these shelves, as well as a wardrobe, a trunk or two, and a small desk which was also covered in books; the remaining floor space was taken up by a large bed, which was neatly made, giving the room a clean look despite the clutter.

Approaching the bed, Snape snorted and shook his head amusedly. Beside the bed on the right side was yet another stack of books; apparently all of the ones that the Headmaster couldn’t fit on his bookshelves.

  
Snape plucked one off of the top and flipped through it absentmindedly; he was sure most of these books were probably gifts the Headmaster had received; most people tended to give the man books, and even though he didn’t necessarily want them, each and every book looked to have been read at least once.

Setting the book back down atop the pile, Snape glanced around the rest of the room. Due to the shelves and all of the clutter, the room had a dark closed in feeling, almost like a nest, or small den; Snape realized why Dumbledore had chosen his quarters to be the place where they would bond, it was small and smelled of the Headmaster. Snape closed his eyes and inhaled; he could smell the man, smell the sweetness of his favorite foods, the cleanliness of his soap, but above all, he could smell the man himself. Yes, this would be a perfect place to bond; small, dark, warm, safe.  
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Snape ran his fingers absentmindedly over the soft material. The other benefit of using the Headmaster’s quarters was that the entire place smelled of the man, meaning that once Snape was lost to the heat, he was less likely to be startled when the other man eventually joined him; a small wave of anxiety panged in his chest just as a thrilled knot formed in his stomach; he was beginning to feel both nervous and excited about the upcoming days, and hoped that the Headmaster wouldn’t be too long.

They hadn’t come up with a means of communication for when Snape did go in heat, something that had been worrying him constantly, but he didn’t bring it up; Albus had assured him that when he went into heat, he’d know, and would hasten to be with him as soon as possible.

 

      Feeling his body temperature rise, Snape rose from the bed and removed his robes, hesitating a moment before tossing them in a corner. He then worked on the buttons of his top, making himself count each and everyone to keep himself focused.  
He forced himself to strip himself of every last article of clothing with maddening precision and slowness, his temperature rising steadily with each passing minute. He cleared his throat, running his fingers across it nervously, glancing around again; he’d never experienced the onset of a heat before, having taken the sleeping drought at the first signs of his heat the last time.

  
He knew what to expect once he was in the full grip of his heat, but not the onset; he had no clue when he would lose his cognizance and focus entirely upon the need to mate. It was alarming, and he felt uneasy standing naked in the Headmaster’s room.

  
       He began to pace the room, from the pile of books at the right side of the bed all the way around the circular room to the other side of the bed and then back again. He continued to mindlessly stroke at his throat, or run his fingers along his collarbone, occasionally clearing his throat to break the silence in the room.  
With every pass around the bed he felt hotter and hotter, and as his temperature peaked, he found himself glancing more and more often at the door. He had no desire or intention to leave the room, however the more he paced the more worried he became of someone else coming in through the door; what if someone did come in?  
He glanced at the edge of the bed where he’d set his wand; yes, he could probably get to it, but what if he couldn’t?  
There was no other way out of the room besides that door, all of the windows having been partially or completely blocked by the bookshelves.  
Moving back around the bed, he snatched up his wand and moved towards the door. Sliding the lock into place he muttered several enchantments before turning and continuing his pacing. Every few minutes or so, his feverish brain paranoid of being caught with no means of escaped forced him to return to the door and add more enchantments. This continued for awhile until Snape felt too hot to keep it up.

Climbing onto the bed he spread himself out across the cool cover, sighing as it moved against his heated skin. It was hot, far too hot, and yet he wasn’t sweating; he wished that he would sweat, because eventually the sweat would have to cool.  
He groaned and hissed irritably as the stifling heat seemed to wrap around him and suffocate him, forcing him to gasp and pant for breath, each lungful less satisfying than the last.

As he lay there in an unfamiliar bed, the only thing that kept him from fully panicking was the familiar scent; he knew that scent, that scent meant safety, protection. He knew, despite the stifling heat, despite how tight his skin felt, or how hard his heart beat against his breastbone, he would be safe; he was safe here.

 

*******

 

      He came too both cold and clammy, and overwhelmingly hot. He blinked, barely taking in the room around him as he shifted on the bed with a groan; he must have passed out, why or when he had no idea, nor did he really care; it only took a quick sweep of the small cluttered room to note that he was alone and safe.  
Panting, he forced himself into a sitting position, his legs spread out before him; staying upright in that position was difficult as all of his muscles trembled with the effort.

Overwhelming hot flashes assaulted him in waves, spreading out from his core up to the tips of his ears, and down to the tips of his fingers and toes. Why was he so hot?  
An ache in his gut that made him gasp as it fueled a burning heat in his insides answered his question; he was in heat, of course.

He glanced around the room, confusion and a small hint of anxiety coming over him. If he were in heat, than where was his Alpha? Why wasn’t the Alpha there with him?  
A few horrible thoughts flittered across his fevered brain but he didn’t linger on them for long, instead turning his attention towards the door. Crawling to the end of the bed he awkwardly and clumsily climbed off of it, steadying himself only for a second before moving towards the door; he pulled on the knob but the door didn’t open. He blinked, and noticing the lock, turned it and tried again, the door still wouldn’t budge.  
Frowning, he looked for other locks, slider locks or anything else that would keep the door from opening, but finding none he backed away warily.  
So he was trapped, and couldn’t go and look for his Alpha; those terrible thoughts flittered to the forefront of his mind again and he shuttered before they dispersed again.  
There was no need to panic. His Alpha would come for him, and, even if he didn’t, or couldn’t, at least he knew that no one else could get in, he tried to reason with himself, climbing back onto the sweat dampened covers, and looking anxiously towards the door.

 

      The waves of heat continued to flush through his body while his heart beat a violent tattoo against his chest, and his stomach knotted unpleasantly as the burning ache inside of him grew more insistent.  
Lying back down, he attempted to sleep, to try and keep his mind off of the terrible reasons why his Alpha wasn’t there with him, but he had little success. Soon, despite his worry and anxieties, he was panting and fretting, the burning heat in his gut to insistent to permit many thoughts beyond the hardening cock between his thighs.

       He tried to resist the arousal, but found it to be a losing battle. His cock throbbed insistently, flushed pink and hard against his hip and despite any worrying thoughts or concerns, he couldn’t help but roll onto his back and wrap a hand around his length.  
He whimpered and gasped as he worked his hand up and down along the length of his turgid flesh. It felt good, but not nearly good enough. After a short while of fondling himself he gasped and cried as he came, spilling against his stomach as his entire body tensed and trembled.

But despite his orgasm, the heat in his gut only grew more insistent, and before long he was panting and fully hard once more. He groaned in frustration, bracing his feet against the covers and spreading his thighs as he began jerking at his cock again, smearing the cum and precum across the flushed skin as best he could. His ass clenched slightly as slick began to seep from the opening; only a few drops, just enough to moisten his entrance and make him whimper uncomfortably.

 

     This continues till all thoughts of his Alpha are driven completely from his head, his only thoughts of how hot he feels and how desperately he burns. He doesn’t bother to cover up the sounds that rise up in his throat as he works himself to orgasm after orgasm, relief if there is any not lasting long at all. He’s too hot, too hard, and in a desperate need of an Alpha.

      Doubled over on the bed, his knees braced wide beneath him, his face pressed into the slightly crumbled covers, he does his best to work his entrance with his fingers, but the angle is terrible and his reach not long enough for it to be more than frustrating; even so he works his middle and index finger into himself as best he can, gasping and groaning as he works the slick soaked ring of muscles.  
His thighs tremble with the effort, glistening with slick that continues to moisten his passage. He growls in frustration, removing his wet fingers and pushing himself up onto his elbows; it wasn’t enough, he _needed **more**_!

Crawling to the side of the bed he tore open the beside drawer, throwing everything out of it before climbing from the bed and moving onto other drawers and even the wardrobe, searching for something, _anything_ that might help relieve the burning inside of him.

He’d given the door a few glances and more than a few thoughts, but knew that it was useless, he couldn’t get out, and he highly doubted that he could break his way out through the door physically; so instead, he through his irritated and desperate efforts into tearing the room apart in search of anything he could use to relieve himself; it didn’t have to be a permanent cure, just something to give him a moments rest, something to cool him down, just let him catch his breath!

        Eventually he’d come across a long unused stash of potion supplies, and among the slightly dusty kit a smooth marble pestle; he eyed it for a moment, breathing rapidly as he tried to reason through the maddening need throbbing inside of him.

The pestle was heavy in his hand, but also long and not too wide; he figured if he were careful with it, it could be useful.  
Even the mere idea of the item being at all useful whipped away any reasonable thoughts from his head, and he quickly returned to the bed with the object in hand.

It wasn’t ideal, and it certainly wasn’t easy to manage, but it would have to do. He lay on his back, feet braced against the bed and thighs spread wide. Arching his hips, and straining his shoulders as he reached between his thighs, he pressed the blunt head of the pestle against his entrance, groaning slightly at the pressure against his hole.  
He hissed and whimpered, but managed to take care as he pressed the instrument against his entrance, the slick gathering on the smooth marble surface and lubricating it.

After some careful work, work that left his shoulders and neck painfully stiff, he managed to push the blunt end of the pestle passed the ring of muscles.  
He gasped, dark eyes widening as his muscles strained against the intrusion, but ignored the slight burn and pushed the pestle deeper into himself with a loud groan; it wasn’t long enough to be entirely helpful, and it was too heavy for him to angle towards his prostate, but its weight was an advantage; the heavy tool weighed his insides down and made him groan with the fullness.

After only a moment of adjusting to the cool weight pressed inside of him, he pulled it out again with a loud wet pop, and a shudder as more slick seemed out to dampen his thighs and drip onto the covers.

Now he knew that he could use the tool, but the angle would have to be changed if he wished to be able to move it in and out of himself. Rolling onto his knees he pressed his face against the pillows and reached back around himself to insert the pestle back in.

The new position proved the pestle harder to handle, but easier to insert, and he couldn’t help but gasp as it slid back into him easily; the weight of the tool proved to be a welcome challenge as he had to work to draw it back out, but could merely let it slide back into him with only a small amount of guidance needed.

       Once he’d worked out any semblance of a rhythm, all higher thought left him, once again smothered by the unbearable ‘need’ burning inside of him. He moaned and cried as he fucked himself, the speed and angle not ‘quite’ right, nor what he wanted let alone needed, but it worked a little. His cock throbbed and bobbed between his thighs as he rocked slightly, his legs trembling with the effort to keep himself in the kneeling position.

He whimpered against the pillows, inhaling the familiar scent, though to subtle to make him forget that he was alone; he let out a soft miserable noise, pressing his face fully into the pillow as he worked himself a little harder.

        Why hadn’t his Alpha come for him? What could have possibly kept him away? Was it something he’d done? Was he not a good Omega? Had he displeased the Alpha in some way, or had something else caused the Alpha to abandon him?

      The thoughts were all terrible, and only increased the miserable feelings blooming inside of him. He whimpered and cried softly into the pillow while he used the tool to fuck himself, his toes curling every time the weight settled quickly and firmly inside of him.

What if something horrible had happened, and his Alpha had meant to join him but couldn’t?

This thought was perhaps worse than all the others; what could possibly be worse than an Alpha abandoning their Omega?; an Alpha who had no intention of doing so but being forced to due to circumstances beyond any of their control.

He hated not knowing what had caused him to be alone and locked up; hated not being able to find his Alpha; what if the Alpha needed him? What if he was hurt, or worse, and in need of aid?

He gasped and cried sharply, pulling the pestle out of himself and letting it drop heavily onto the bed as an orgasm tore through him, splattering the covers beneath him with seed.

Collapsing onto his side, panting, face flushed and streaked with salty tear tracks, Severus couldn’t help but think the worse, feeling miserable and completely overwhelmed with his situation.

 

*******

 

      Albus had not intended to be away from his office for more than an hour at any given time that week, knowing that Severus could go into heat at any time; however he’d found himself being forced away to a meeting with the Minster that had taken nearly two hours to get away from. He’d done his best to express his need to return to the school without coming off as rude, but the Minister hadn’t noticed and Albus had been forced to sit irritably through an hour and forty-five minute luncheon with the man.

      Once he’d returned to Hogwarts it was nearly four in the afternoon, and the castle was mostly quiet due to the late afternoon classes; he saw a handful of students as he made his way towards his office, students with fee periods either studying or running off to get into all sorts of trouble. Even as irritable as he felt towards the Minister for keeping him away so long, Albus couldn’t help but feel calmer once he was back at the school, his school; Hogwarts was his home, and the only place he wished to be.

 

      Entering his office he glanced around; as he’d climbed the moving spiral staircase he’d scented the familiar pheromones of his Potions Master. He sniffed at his office as well, the smell lingered there as well, but it was weak, making it difficult for him to register if it was fresh or not.

     “He’s in your rooms.”

Albus glanced towards the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, who sat up from his slouched position of feigned sleep and gestured towards the spiral staircase at the back of the office. “Came in here several hours ago.”

Albus felt his chest tighten as a sense of guilt washed over him. Naturally the day he’d been unable to remain at the school would be the day that the younger man’s heat would occur.

  
        “Thank you.” Albus said with a quick nod before moving quickly towards the stairs and climbing them briskly. When he came to the door he was surprised to find it barred, and tried the handle once before realizing that the door itself was unlocked, but enchanted and warded; he hadn’t foreseen that possibility.  
Drawing his wand from his sleeve he worked to undo the wards; it took a moment or two, but he was talented, and he knew the other man well; he knew what sort of wards and protections the other man was likely to use.

      Once he got through the wards and entered his bedroom, he was buffeted by the smell of desperate Omega hormones, forcing him to clench his teeth to bite back a growl that tried to rise from the back of his throat; the entire room smelled of sweat, sex, and heat pheromones, and he couldn’t quite help the slight stiffening between his legs. His nostrils flared as he stepped farther into the room, the scent stronger in the smaller space than it ever had been down in the dungeons.

He spotted Severus on the bed, stripped naked and fretting against the covers; his pale skin was flushed and glistening with sweat, soft moaning whimpers escaping him as he thrust his hips into his hand. His ass clenched, the entrance red and stretched, slick coating his cleft, cheeks, and thighs; Albus was surprised and slightly disturbed at the sight of the marble pestle resting on the mattress, glistening in the weak light that managed to find its way into the room.

       Severus stilled with a slight yelp, hissing faintly as he lifted his face from the pillows and turned to look back over his shoulder, having obviously smelled Albus rather than hearing him. Severus’s dark eyes focused on him and he let out a low gasp, hand still moving along his flesh rapidly; the younger man panted, pupils blown wide with arousal, and let out a whimper face tightening up as his body tensed and he came with a shudder.

Albus growled lowly in his throat, closing the door behind him and waving his wand in a delicate arch over his shoulder, locking the door and setting up his own wards before moving towards the bed, wand in hand.

Severus whimpered, a mixture of anxiety and relief wafting from him as he shakily turn on the bed, thighs trembling with the effort at supporting his weight post orgasm.

       “A-A-“ He stuttered, voice broken and dry. Albus removed his outer robes, kneeling on the end of the bed he tossed his wand to rest on the covers besides Severus’s own as he parted his under robes and tore his pants down his thighs.  
Severus whimpered and rolled on his knees, till his back hit the mattress, shaking thighs parted as Albus climbed over him.

      “P-please,” He gasped, gripping at Albus’s chest as he gathered up his beard and tossed it carelessly over his shoulder.

        “I’m here, I’m sorry I’m late,” He apologized, his own breathing growing labored due to the stifling pheromones assaulting him. Severus whimpered and lifted his hips, trying to yank Albus down closer, to desperate to remember manners.

      “Need you,” Severus gasped as Albus mounted him, feeling between the smaller man’s wet thighs and probing at the stretched clenching hole; it was sloppy and wet, and he probed carefully with his fingers, Severus whimpering and moaning hot air against his chest and throat; he wanted to be sure that the man hadn’t hurt himself with the pestle before he dared enter him.

      “Please, need you, now, please, to long,” Severus whimpered, voice breaking thickly with emotion and need, fingers tugging at Albus’s under robe. Albus tried to hush him, but before he could voice his concerns, Severus wrapped his legs around Albus’s hips and pulled him closer, his wet twitching hole flexing against Albus’s hardened prick making him gasp. Severus couldn’t penetrate himself on Albus’s cock at that angle, but he moaned and sighed nonetheless as he flexed his hips to rub against the older man.

Albus growled and Severus, desperate and upset lifted his head and hissed in response, face screwed up miserably, and dark eyes flashing dangerously. The Omega would not be left wanting much longer, and even though he let his head loll back submissively Albus knew that if they didn’t join soon Severus would attempt to force himself onto the Alpha’s cock; growling low in his throat in a disgruntled response before positioning himself and thrusting forward, forcing himself into the other’s hungry twitching sex.

Severus cried at the crude intrusion, but the cry quickly turned into a long moan as dark eyes rolled back in their sockets and the younger man let himself go slack, save for the hands clawing firmly at Albus’s shoulders. Albus nipped and licked at the exposed column of the dark man’s pale throat, grunting as he thrust sharply and quickly into his Potions Master. He rutted into him, his mind hazy and confused, the bed creaking slightly at the rough movements as he bred the man beneath him, who moaned and mewled appreciatively.

      “Yes, there,” Severus gasped, head jolting up as his prostate was pounded against with each sharp thrust. He hissed through gritted teeth, his fevered and sore flesh protesting against the treatment, but his mind and core craved it. He let his head fall back, arching into the thrusts as best he could, he gasped sharply as the air was repeatedly forced out of his lungs.

Albus braced himself with his hand against the covers, his muscles straining with the effort to properly mate the younger man, to please and provide him with what he needed; When their gazes locked, Albus couldn’t restrain the growl that escaped him, teeth bared slightly as he lowered himself over the other’s sweaty pale body slightly. Severus bared his teeth in return; no challenge just a simple case of parroting.

There was nothing challenging in the younger man, just soft pleased desperate sounds, and dark glassy eyes that gazed warmly up at him. Albus felt his chest clench with something other than anxiety, guilt, or the need to mate; it was all too much, it felt too good; sliding in and out of the other man, seeing the contented pleasure of being had.  
Albus swore under his breath as he felt his knot beginning to swell and slide against the Omega’s slick inner walls; he’d stretched himself out so much with the pestle getting the knot it wasn’t a problem in the slightest.

      Severus whimpered, tilting his hips a little more sharply before craning his neck in attempt to kiss the other man; Albus tilted his head so that their lips could brush, and the kiss was all to gentle and all to sweet; far sweeter than could have been expected of a desperate Omega in heat.  
With a hard stuttering thrust Albus’s knot swelled up completely, sore and puffy, locking him to the man beneath him; he rocked his hips downward, forcing the younger man into the mattress as he tried to push himself in deeper, to tie them closer together.

Severus let out a long loud sigh as Albus came with a gasping cry, his cock twitching and shooting long thick strands of seed to coat his insides. Severus made soft contented sounds as the older man rested heavily atop him, the thin material of his under robe clinging to their equally sweat slicked skin.

       Coming back to himself only slightly, Severus flexed his muscles, squeezing his ass around the knot that filled his insides, milking another orgasm from the man over him.

      “Stop that,” Albus hissed, voice low and dark, blue eyes flashing dangerously over the tops of slightly crooked half-mooned spectacles; but Severus merely smiled, exposing slightly crooked teeth in an obviously self-pleased manner as he flexed around the knot again.

Albus grunted as his cock spasmned, his muscles twitching as more cum escaped him to paint the younger man’s insides; he forced himself up onto his hands again, frowning down at the younger man. With a considerable amount of effort he flexed his hips, bushing hard into the other’s body, his knock sinking slightly deeper as his cock twitched and jerked.

Severus gasped, his eyes rolling back into his head as he panted heavily at the overwhelming stretch and burn, his toes curling against the bed cover as his cock twitched in mild interest at the pain.

      “You need to listen to me,” Albus stated, voice rough and low with the effort of holding himself up and swiveling his hips slowly, to insure that the younger man would feel the stretch and burn from all sides.

Severus gasped at the movement, biting his lip sharply before forcing his eyes open and hissing at the other man.

       “Maybe I don’t want to,” He panted, brows furrowing at the not unwelcome pain in his rear; it wasn’t a terrible pain, and Albus wasn’t trying to hurt him, it was merely a burn; a burn that Severus knew would make his knees weak at the mere thought of it. “Maybe I like being disobedient.”

Albus jerked his hips sharply causing the younger man to gasp and choke as a wet moan escaped him, eyes snapping shut again as he panted, the sensation of the burning fullness inside of him and the spurts of cum that followed overwhelmingly good.

       “You certainly are a handful,” Albus huffed, glancing down between their bodies where the other wizard’s prick was rigid and flushed an angry red color. “and if it’s something you desire, I certainly don’t mind reprimanding you.” He said fondly, though the words came off slightly dark as he reached between them and curled his fingers around the head of the other’s cock, squeezing and jerking sharply.

  
Severus erupted, shooting white strands of cum over his hand and onto his stomach with a loud gasping cry; Albus groaned as the younger man’s orgasm milked his knot for one last weak orgasm; releasing the other’s slender prick and resting his forehead against the other’s heaving chest Albus swore quietly against the other man’s pale skin.


	9. The Bond is Home

     He became aware of himself slowly, the heavy fog of the heat and forgetfulness of sleep lifting in layers until he was able to open his eyes and pull all of his senses together to form one picture; _he was in Dumbledore’s quarters, he’d entered his heat, Dumbledore had eventually joined him_ ….

At the thought of the other man Severus directed his attention to his sense of touch, reaching out across the bed in search of the other man, sighing in relief when his fingers bumped into a warm ribcage. Turning his head, Severus found Dumbledore lying beside him, still draped in his under robe but looking thoroughly ruffled; his silver white hair was messy, his glasses had been removed, and his under robe hung onto his frame crookedly.

Rolling onto his side to face the other man, Severus wiggled his hips in slight surprise; he felt clean and dry. Dumbledore’s blue eyes fluttered open and focused on him, and Severus came to the conclusion that he’d been cleaned up after passing out. Resting his hand against the other’s chest he returned the steady gaze.

      “Where were you?” He finally inquired, voice a little cracked and dry.

      “I’m sorry my love, I was called away by the Minister and couldn’t get back any sooner.” Dumbledore apologized, resting a hand over Severus’s, thumb rubbing circles against the smooth pale skin.

       “This was not how I envisioned this encounter.”

        “No, nor how I envisioned it.” Severus agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m disappointed. It’s the first day,” he sighed, running his free hand over his eyes wearily.

        “Yes.” Dumbledore agreed, patting his hand. “And I can promise that I won’t be going anywhere. You have my full and undivided attention, my dear.” The older wizard assured, causing Snape to smile sardonically.

        “How flattering. Thank you for cleaning me up, Albus.” Severus turned his attention back to the older man.

        “You were quite filthy,” Dumbledore frowned. “I couldn’t imagine waking up covered in dried fluids would be all that comfortable.”

         “No, it is not.” Severus agreed, rolling onto his back before pushing himself up into a sitting position, wincing slightly at the slight throb in his ass. Dumbledore sat up as well, placing a steadying hand on his naked shoulder, a look of concern upon his aged face. “I’m fine, just sore.” Severus commented.

          “I’m not surprised, despite my less than gentle treatment of you, it seems you had quite a go at yourself with this,” Dumbledore twisted around and leaned towards the nearly buried bedside table, pushing a few books aside as he retrieved the marble pestle. Severus balked slightly at the sight of the tool and Dumbledore nodded grimly.

         “God, no wonder I’m sore.” Severus sighed, taking the pestle and weighing it in his hand. “We will need to be more prepared in the future.” He sighed, leaning over the edge of the bed and setting the marble object on the floor.

        “Yes, we will, but this will certainly be a learning process.” Dumbledore agreed with a nod, running his hand down along the pale man’s side, glancing down at his rear as he leaned over the edge of the bed. “Now, please let me examine you before the heat sets back in,”

        “What?” Severus quipped frowning over his shoulder at the other man and attempting to straighten up but the hands against his back and side making it difficult. “I wish to properly examine you to make sure you haven’t hurt yourself.”

        “I’m fine, Albus,” Severus snapped.

        “Please indulge me, my dear, I’m an old man after all and stuck in my ways.” Severus snorted and rolled his eyes but relaxed a little.

        “How do you want me?”

        “Hmn, perhaps on your back would be easiest, but if you’d be more comfortable on your stomach—” Severus didn’t give the older wizard a chance to finish, rolling onto his back and relaxing against the pillows. Dumbledore nodded and lifted up the other’s thighs, pressing them back till the younger man’s knees were at his chest; Severus gripped his knees, rolling his ankles a few times until they popped. “If you feel any pain or unbearable discomfort please let me know.” Dumbledore requested, grabbing up his wand and once again performing the lubrication spell; it was a strange sensation, and Severus flexed his inner muscles slightly.

        Once the younger wizard was lubricated, Albus shifted forward on the bed, and pressing a steadying hand against a pale thigh; he pressed his index and middle finger into the wet entrance; his fingers slid in with considerable ease, and the muscles only tensed against the intrusion slightly. Severus winced a few times, but gave no other complaints while Albus let his fingers explore the other’s insides, carefully feeling around for any cuts or tears.

        “Anything love?”

        “No, just a little sore from over stimulation,” Severus sighed, flinching slightly when Albus’s fingers brushed briefly against his prostate. Satisfied that the younger man hadn’t been damaged, Albus let his fingers slide out of the warm body, clearing away the lubricant with another wave of his wand.

        “Alright, I’ll try and keep that in mind.” Albus said with a nod as Severus sat back up. “But for now, why don’t you have something to drink?” Albus waved his wand, and a tray that had been placed carefully atop a stack of books hovered across the room towards them. “Our enlisted little house elf checked in while you were out, she was quite concerned for you, but after a lot of reassuring she returned to the kitchens.” Albus said fondly, filling a large goblet with cool water and handing it to Severus, who took it and sipped at it carefully; he was extremely parched, but didn’t want to risk the chances of being sick by drinking it too quickly.

        “Albus, we didn’t bond did we?” Severus inquired frowning after he’d finished half of his goblet. Albus shook his head, nibbling on a piece of fruit as he did so.

        “No, when I arrived you were too needy and demanding to be really handled, and I quickly lost any sense beyond aiding you in your need to be mounted.” He admitted. Severus sighed, relief washing over him, something that Albus picked up on, if the glance he gave the younger man was any indicator. Severus finished his goblet of water before setting it back on the tray that hovered at the edge of the bed.

        “Don’t take me wrong, Albus, I want to be bonded with you, desperately, but I am glad that it didn’t happen when you first arrived. I, I want to _know_ that it’s happening; does that make sense?”

        “Yes it does.” Albus agreed with a nod. “It makes perfect sense, and I have to agree with you. I too feel the desire to be aware of when the bond is made, or as aware as our condition will permit either of us.” Severus sighed, and lay back against the covers, completely unmoved by his own nakedness; stretching against the covers he ran a hand along his stomach as he gazed up at the ceiling; the sun had set, and the room was lit by several floating candles that hovered near the top of the room.

        “Will you do it soon?” He asked. “When the heat comes back, will you do it?” He glanced down to where Albus sat, watching him steadily while chewing on the last bite of his fruit. “Will you bond with me, and mark me, and make me yours?” Swallowing the fruit, Albus moved up the bed, hovering over the naked man who watched him steadily, dark eyes searching his face. He gently placed a hand over the man’s pale left breast, feeling the steady beating of his heart against his palm.

         “Yes.” Albus said simply with a nod. “Yes I will.” He let his fingers begin to draw nonsensical patterns against the younger wizard’s pale skin. “By the end of this first day, you and I will be bonded for whatever remains of our lives.” Severus shivered, his eyes closing as he broke out in goose flesh, the fingers drawing across his skin becoming all the more prominent.

         “Good.”

 

*******

 

         Albus woke up to wet sounds and stifled panting, reaching for his glasses he pushed them up the bridge of his nose and glanced around; the bed was empty, but he spotted the back of the younger wizards head at the opposite edge. Moving across the bed he leaned over to peer over the side, the younger man glancing back at him with wide dark eyes, pupils blown wide and pale cheeks flushed. Albus could smell the heat induced pheromones wafting from the other man, alluring and intoxicating and desperate. He inhaled deeply, letting his eyes drift closed as the scent coat his brain completely; there is perhaps no sweeter scent than an Omega in heat.

Opening his eyes again, he refocused on the man beside the bed. Severus was sat awkwardly against the side of the bed, trembling and sweating as he touched himself; one hand was forced between himself and the bed frame, fingers fucking and fondling his slick drenched hole quickly and without rhythm, while the other hand jerked at his hardened cock. Albus leaned his weight on one arm as he watched his younger lover, his mate, working himself over; the Omega had no finesse, but the awkward desperate movements only endeared him to Albus more, the Alpha in him contentedly amused.

Leaning down he let his beard brushed against the back of the other’s head, catching on the black hair as he lightly bumped his chin against the other’s head; he peered a little closer at the twitching, panting man; a shiver that had more to do with nerves than anything else assaulted the pale figure beneath him, his own pheromones unhindered by suppressant and billowing out into the room unchecked.

       “You know that I prefer to be the one to touch you,” Albus stated, voice quiet and gentle, void of threat or aggression, but Severus shuddered nonetheless. Albus pressed his lips against the black hair, kissing the other man gently. “Stop.” He ordered gently, lips catching on the other’s hair. Severus whimpered, but after a moment withdrew the hand that had been fingering his entrance, and stilled the hand on his cock. Albus hummed, pressing another kiss to the top of the trembling man’s head. “Good boy, let me see this,” He gently reached down and snagged the pale man’s wrist, lifting the hand up so that he could examine it; pale fingers, coated in slick twitched slightly in his grip. Albus hummed and drew the digits into his mouth, sucking and licking them clean while the other man panted and moaned; he released his cock, balling his hand into a fist; the temptation to keep wanking nearly too strong to resist. “There,” Albus sighed, releasing the other’s wrist and looking down at the sweating man, who peered back up at him, brow knitted in effort and pale thin lips dry and cracked from his heavy breathing. “All clean,” he stated, running his hand down along the other’s jaw before letting his hand rest across the pale throat; Severus’s head leaned back to rest against the edge of the mattress, and Albus could feel the slight bob of his adam’s apple against his palm. While Albus examined the younger wizard, Severus let out a keening whine; drawing his legs up a little and reaching up to lightly cling to the hand across his throat.

        “It hurts.” He whined the vibration and bob of his throat tickling against Albus’s palm. Albus tsked, clicking his teeth as he slid his hand down along the other’s throat to his shoulder.

        “That’s because you’ve been made to wait you needy thing,” he chided, leaning a little further down to hook the other man beneath the arms and heave him upwards; Severus scrambled slightly, weak legs not fully prepared to support his weight. But with more effort on Albus’s end, he managed to pull the man back onto the bed, where he collapsed against the rumbled covers. “You should have woken me up,” Albus stated, looming over the trembling and sweating man, his beard hanging down to tickle a pale shoulder and causing the man on the bed to twitch slightly.

          “I wanted to,” Severus gasped, “but I couldn’t reach you.” He reached up and grasped at Albus’s arms, clinging to the material of his robe desperately. “I’m sorry, I should have tried harder, I shouldn’t have touched myself,” He licked his dried lips a moan catching at the back of his throat. “but it felt good, I needed it, please,” Albus slid a hand along a narrow hip, dipping between pale trembling thighs to probe between taught cheeks; Severus whined arching his hips as Albus’s fingers ran along the cleft of his ass, fingers briefly brushing against his entrance; when Albus withdrew his hand it came back coated with slick. “Please, please, please, please,” Severus panted, dark eyes shut and brows knitted with _need_. “Please touch me, please, need you,” He gasped, undulating against the covers.

        Hand still covered in the other’s slick, Albus reached down and wrapped his hand around the younger man’s hard flushed cock. The Omega gasped, his head jerking up as Albus began to gently roll the rigid flesh in his hand, slowly pulling the foreskin down and away from the flushed glands.

        “I’ve got you,” Albus assured, resting his weight on his elbow as he leaned down beside the panting Omega. He slid his hand up and down along the other’s narrow length slowly a few times, brushing his thumb across the slit and thoroughly enjoying the gasping whines drawn from the other man. Severus rolled his hips upwards with each downward stroke of Albus’s hand, gasping and whining as his head spun from lack of proper oxygen; every breath he attempted to take would catch in his lungs before escaping to fast exhales, leaving him shaky and lightheaded.

Albus surveyed the younger man silently as he fondly worked the other’s sex. He’d come to the final conclusion that Severus was exactly what Albus had ever expected in a potential mate; the man was strong willed, intelligent, talented, powerful, capable of looking out for himself to a certain extent, and yet… there was also a frailty to Severus that endeared Albus to the man even more. There was loneliness, a weakness, a part of him that longed to be looked after, to be cherished, and Albus liked that; he enjoyed seeing the man fall apart completely, relieved of all of the things that made him bitter, aggressive, and standoffish, even if only for a short while.

Albus loved that he could care for the younger man, see to his needs and wants, mold him and direct him; but he also liked that the man was not entirely _needy_. Severus could do well enough on his own, even if he didn’t like it; Albus could respect him for that.

      “You’re beautiful,” Albus praised, ducking his head and mouthing against the other’s smooth jaw, causing the panting man to tilt his head back and to the side, exposing more of his neck and throat; Albus hummed as he began licking and nipping at the exposed flesh, his hand running along the shaft, fingers tracing the slightly raised vein on the underside of the shaft. He could feel pre-cum leaking heavily from the slit, moistening his hand with each stroke. He carefully rolled the foreskin back over the flushed moist glands as he sucked on his mates pulse point; Severus gasped, his hips jerking slightly as Albus fondled the head of his cock before coiling his fingers around the glands and giving a gentle twist.

       “P-please,” Severus whined, “Want you inside of me,”

        “Soon love,” Albus assured pressing a kiss against the bruise he’d left on the other’s neck before rising back up onto his elbow. “But I want you to cum for me first,” Severus whined piteously at that, letting his head roll from side to side as he squirmed against the covers. Albus quickened his pace, twisting his hand on each upward stroke, causing the younger man to groan low and roll his hips upwards a little sharper. “Cum for me love, do that for me and then, then I’ll give you what you need.” Albus purred, locking his fingers a little tighter and beginning to pump the rigid prick quickly; the firm quick pace would force the younger man over the edge faster, something that the Alpha desired; there was time for slow tender care, but this was not that time. Severus’s gasps and whines faded as his body began to tremble, his hips losing the slight rhythm that he’d managed to maintain, stuttering in short jerks.

Albus watched as a darker flush rose up from the other’s breastbone, coloring his face and ears, thin flushed lips mouthing wordlessly. With a slight squeak all of the air that had been trapped in his lungs escaped in a high pitched moan, his body tensing.

       “That’s it,” Albus muttered quietly, jerking his wrist a little quicker as the younger man screwed his eyes shut and gasped through gritted teeth, brows furrowing as his body tensed, the burning coil in his gut being pulled as taught as it would go. “don’t hold back, just cum for me, come on,” With a loud moan, Severus went rigid, back snapping to arch off of the bed as his climax hit; Albus loosened his grip slightly as he continued to jerk at the other’s twitching cock, loving the feeling of it pulsing hot and wet against his hand.

Collapsing back against the bed, Severus’s hips snapped forwarded jerkily, squirting thin strands of warm spunk over the older man’s hand and his own stomach.

       “Good boy,” Albus praised, kissing the side of the sweating man’s parted lips before briefly claiming his mouth to swallow the gasping moans his younger lover made. Breaking the kiss, he pulled the smaller man upright, hands firm as he did so. “Very good,” he repeated breathlessly, as he carefully manhandled the smaller man around so that he was on his knees. Severus whimpered and gasped as he was handled and repositioned, the aroused and overbearing pheromones coming from the Alpha overwhelming and frightening, but also exciting. This Alpha, ‘his’ Alpha was pleased with him, and he couldn’t help but curl his spine, bowing his head low so that he could present his ass; presenting on his knees was easy, the proper way to do so, and he could feel the increase of slick begin to leak from his damp entrance.

He panted and gasped from his kneeling position, ass in the air, strong firm hands still roaming over his back and sides possessively. He could smell the arousal coming from the Alpha, and it only fueled his own; his cock, having wilted slightly from his release twitched feebly between his trembling thighs; the burning heat in his gut twisting and churning as he produced more and more slick in eager anticipation. He wanted, no, _needed_ the Alpha to take him, to fill him up, put out the fire inside of him, to relieve the unbearable heat that was trying to burn him up from the inside out; but above all, he simply _needed_ the Alpha. Needed to be used by the Alpha, mounted and rutted, properly bred by the Alpha, _claimed_ by the Alpha.

        Albus continued to firmly run his hands along the other’s damp heated skin, breathing in the smell of musky sex, heady pheromones, and spicy slick; his cock throbbed between his thighs, leaking pre-cum and catching on the under robe whenever he shifted his position. From the moment he’d woken up to find his lover on the floor touching himself his blood had been set to boil, but despite the raw desire to simply take the younger man he hesitated; his hesitation wasn’t due to unease, or anxiety, or anything else, but merely a test of his own patience and the _need_ to simply _touch_.

Severus, his Omega, was still weak; the scent of ill health had lessened since their last coupling together, but there was still something off about the younger man; something the Alpha couldn’t ignore. He wanted to claim the Omega, but part of him wondered, a small part of him wondered if it would be wise?

He dragged his hand over the other’s taught narrow backside, fingers slipping into the cleft and run up and down across the other’s drenched and leaking entrance; Severus groaned, forehead pressed against the mattress, body trembling as he tilted his hips a little further back, trying to ensure ease of access. Albus watched transfixed as his fingers rubbed over the twitching hole, fingers gathering up the slick that leaked out profusely; the ring of muscles twitched and flexed against his fingers, loose and eager. He bumped the pads of his index and middle finger against the hole sharply a few times, receiving short gasps each time; after a moment or two he quickly sank his first two fingers knuckle deep, sliding in easily with the aid of the slick.

        “Not enough!” Severus hissed, gritting his teeth against the covers as the fingers plunged in and out rapidly, swirling and twisting around his insides; it felt good, having his Alpha touching him, but his fingers wasn’t enough, he needed the Alpha’s cock. “Please, not enough,” He panted trying to push back against the fingers as they fucked him.

Albus hummed, his only response that he’d heard the other man as he continued to twist and scissor his fingers inside the pale man’s entrance, stretching him needlessly; the copious amounts of slick, and the fact that they’d fucked only an hour earlier had left the muscles rather pliable. Gripping and squeezing a trembling cheek, he angled his fingers so that he could bump against the other’s prostate with each inward thrust of his fingers; he was pleased to hear the sharp gasps and small moans that he was able to draw from his lover as he met his mark.

        “Ah, n-not,” The broken breathless stuttering was the only other wound in the room beyond the wet squelching sounds Albus’s finger fucking produced; he couldn’t help the slight appreciative moan that escaped him as he thoroughly enjoyed watching and touching his mate; his hand coated in slick, and the trembling twitching form before him struggling to remain in the presenting position all going straight to his neglected prick. “Ngh, p-please A-Alpha, I—”

        “Beautiful,” Albus sighed, removing his fingers with a wet rude noise from the other’s entrance before climbing over him; undoing the loose knot of his under robe, he let it fall open as he moved his beard out of the way so that he could press his bare chest to the younger man’s long slender back.

        “Inside, please.” Severus moaned, voice broken and thick as he arched up against Albus, his ass rubbing teasingly against the older wizard’s hard leaking member. Albus didn’t hesitate any further, flexing his hips and thrusting forward to bury his throbbing cock deep into the man beneath him; the wet heat encased him like a glove, and he couldn’t help but groan at the slightly shocked cry of the smaller man at the quick intrusion.

Severus gasped and moaned against the sheets, trembling knees slipping against the rumpled covers with each thrust; Albus’s physical strength, the firmness of his thrust, was always noticeable while they were joined. Severus couldn’t help the sounds of pleasure that escaped him as he was roughly rutted into, the Alpha’s cock pounding in and out of him quickly. His gut twisted and churned pleasantly with each jarring jolt, his cock hardening fully again to swing heavily between his thighs. Albus rutted sharply and firmly into the man beneath him, the wet heat and friction heavenly as the muscles cling and drag against his flesh; each thrust fills the room with obscene wet sounds, sounds that never truly left one’s mind once they’ve been heard; sounds that made one recall good blow jobs and great sex.

As he continued to thrust he could feel the knot at the base of his cock begining to swell, plumping up to bump against the ring of the darker wizard’s entrance with each thrust; he could feel himself getting close, feel the pleasurable flutters in his gut and at the base of his cock, feel the coil tightening in his core, and his balls tightening with every rock of his hips. With a considerable amount of effort he withdrew fully from the warm body beneath him, his cock springing upwards as it slipped free; the angry flush of his cock glistened, coated with the slick his lover produced, thick beads of milky pre-cum leaking from the slit.

Severus gasped beneath him, jerking back and forcing Albus to tighten his grip on bony hips to hold the younger man in place.

      “No! Don’t—”

        “Shhh,” Albus shushed, tilting his hips away from the squirming man. “Not yet love, not yet,” He panted, his cock giving a sharp jerk as his knot swelled completely. He was sweating and hot, his temperature having spiked as he fucked the younger wizard, his chest heaving with the effort of restraining himself from driving himself back into the Omega’s dripping twitching entrance. “I’m not through with you yet,” He assured through gritted teeth as he flipped the smaller man over onto his back effortlessly.

Severus flailed a little in his confusion, dark eyes glassy and blown wide with lust as he squirms against Albus, trying desperately to return to his former position. His pale skin is flushed and drenched in a thin layer of sweat, his angrily blushing cock swaying between his thighs, bumping against his abdomen and smearing his skin with pre-cum.

        “N-no, no, no, no,” Severus panted, desperation and discomfort knitting his dark brows as he fretted against the bed.

Albus held him in place, preventing him from rolling back over, his cock leaking obscenely as he leaned forward, slipping a knee between trembling thighs. It wasn’t nearly enough, but the Omega whimpered as he cantered his hips, rocking his ass against Albus’s leg as best he could; Albus moaned low in his throat as the younger man rocked his hips, his wet ass smearing slick against his skin.

       “P-please,” Severus whimpered, dark glassy eyes tearing slightly as he tried to stimulate his twitching opening; the fire in his gut had blazed into a storm, the absence of the Alpha’s cock leaving him painfully empty. “I’ll be good, please, n-need you so bad,”

        “You’re good, so good, such a good boy,” Albus sighed pressing forward more so the other man could rock harder against him. Severus whimpered as he gazed longing at the Alpha, the Alpha’s cock flushed and rigid, the swollen glands wet with slick and pre-cum that dripped out on long thin ropes; the Alpha’s knot was fully swollen at the base of his cock, bulbous and puffy. Severus whimpered miserably; fully swollen, there would be no way for the Alpha to tie himself to him, and he ached all the more for it. “Such a good boy,” Albus sighed looming over the slender man, bracing himself on his elbows on either side of the man’s shoulders, his cock nearly brushing the other’s thigh. He pressed a kiss to the Omega’s smooth jaw before rocking his hips forward, his cock grinding against the Omega’s firmly as the younger man continued to rock his hips. “Oh,” Albus sighed as a surprised gasp escaped the man beneath him, his shaky hips cantering up again to rock eagerly against the Alpha’s.

Albus sighed and moaned as the stuttering hips rocked up against him, stimulating his angrily throbbing cock still further.

         “Good boy, just like that, yes,” Albus pressed another kiss against the side of his lover’s neck, moving to leave a wet trail across his throat as the dark haired man tilted his head back to expose himself. Albus let the Omega rock against him for a few moments before rising back up onto his arms with a growl; holding the other’s hips still with one hand he reached between his own legs and wrapped his fingers around the knot, squeezing the swollen and sore flesh firmly. With a loud groan his body stiffened and he erupted; his cock spurt viciously, splattering the surprised man beneath him across the stomach. Severus whimpered piteously but Albus ignored him, gasping and shuddering as he held onto his knot through the violent prolonged orgasm.

He knew that the Omega was shocked and confused, wanting his cock and knot, needing his cum inside of him, filling him up; but Albus needed to mark him, wash away any other scents from that pale skin. His knot pulsed in his grip as his cock jerked, spilling thick seed; it was a shame not to be tied to the other man, not to be breeding him properly, but it couldn’t be helped. Shifting his angle slightly, the hand braced against a bony hip beneath him trembling, he spilt himself over the Omega’s erect prick and tight balls.

The Omega whimpered in surprised confusion, his prick twitching as it was coated with the Alpha’s warm spunk; He gasped and moaned, panting as he felt the warm seed paint his balls and near the top of his entrance.

       “A-Alpha,” He gasped, closing his eyes as he tried to lift his hips, slick pooling in his insides and leaking profusely from his twitching hole, desperate for the Alpha’s seed to be inside of him.

       “You’re being such a good boy,” Albus managed to force out between clenched teeth. As his first orgasm began to subside he bent over the other man, pressing his forehead against the pale heaving chest of his Omega, his good little Omega. “Lovely, perfect boy,” He gasped, eyes closing tightly as his body shuddered violently, his fingers stimulating his knot farther and forcing another orgasm to wash over him.

The Omega’s whimpers mingled with his own gasps and whines as he shot more ropes of thick seed between the other’s thighs, the smell of his sex mingling with the aroused scent of pheromones and slick.

        Once his knot began to deflate Albus righted himself again, his hand pumping at his over stimulated cock; he’d long since stopped restraining the Omega beneath him, who remained where he was whimpering and fretting against the mattress, sweat drenched and aroused almost to a breaking point. Albus admired the figure beneath him, covered in his cum, slick drenching the cover and sheets beneath him. He sighed as his body gave a last weak tremble and a single thin rope of spunk dribbled from his cock and across his knuckles. Severus whimpered, eyes shut tightly as he gnawed at his bottom lip. Clutching at the blankets, he gasped and arched off of the bed slightly, a keening cry escaping him as his messy cock jerked against his abdomen before his entire body tensed.

Albus sighed contentedly as his Omega cried through his orgasm, his slender cock jerking and twitching as he released against his own stomach, his seed splattering to mix with Albus’s.

        Once his climax had subsided his eyes opened and locked with Albus’s own gaze; shock as reflected in those dark glassy eyes and the younger wizard whimpered and attempted to press himself further against the mattress. Albus climbed over him, figuring that he was nervous about cumming without permission, but he shushed him and claimed flushed thin lips in a kiss.

         “It’s alright, you’re beautiful,” Albus assured the trembling and whimpering man beneath him, releasing his now deflated cock and running his hand across the Omega’s cum splattered abdomen, smearing the spunk across the pale skin. “I’m not upset, you were just over stimulated,” He sighed as he slid his hand between the other’s thighs, palming over the younger man’s balls and softening cock; the darker man gasped and hissed at him, snapping his teeth near his ear before whimpering and whining. Albus turned his head to look at him, but did nothing more than shush him. “It’s alright, I know,” He said quietly as the man whimpered as his sensitive cock was brushed and caressed as Albus gathered up his spilled cum to rub into the other’s skin. “I know love, it’s too much, I’m sorry,” He consoled as the Omega nipped feebly at the side of his jaw in protest, growling and whining quietly in equal measure. “But I can’t have you smelling like anyone else,” Albus sat up massaging the cooling spunk against the younger man’s twitching stomach; once he’d neglected his lover’s sex the man merely lay still and quiet, save for the feint trembling that assaulted him. “Good boy,” Albus praised, running his hands all along the other’s narrow bony figure, spreading as much of his scent as he could.

 

*******

 

        He continued to work his fingers against pale flesh long after his seed had dried; most had been spread too thin across pale skin to leave more than his scent behind, but there were a few areas where dry flaky patches had been left behind. The faintly trembling figure beneath him had remained quiet against the mattress while he worked, but the flush remained in his cheeks, and dark eyes watched him quietly from beneath heavy lids; he could sense the impatience coming from his younger mate, and knew that it wouldn’t be long until the Omega would cease to patiently let him do whatever he pleased.

Albus was impressed with Severus’s resolve to remain pliant and still thus far, knowing how needy and uncomfortable the heat was making him feel; slick had continued to leak from between pale thighs, soaking the covers clean through; Albus was sure that the smell of the younger wizards slick would remain ingrained in the material of his very mattress. While Albus continues to touch and mark and scent his lover, the pheromones and arousal simmer and then begin to bubble up again until the paler man is left panting where he lies, muscles twitching in protest at remaining still. But when Albus slides his hand to touch the other’s hardening length Severus lifts his head and bares his teeth, growling low in his throat.

Part of Albus wants to bare his own teeth, or jerk the other man to orgasm in retaliations of the protest, but he doesn’t; his Omega’s patience has reached its limits, and the time to act has arrived. Moving his hand instead to a pale thigh, Albus hitched the other’s left leg over his arm, spreading him wide and permitting access to his glistening entrance. Severus gave no sign of disapproval so Albus let his fingers press against the wet twitching hole to test the resistance; there was none. Shifting closer, naked knees pressing against cold wet sheets Albus leaned carefully over the other man, pressing his own hardening cock against the soaked warm backside; his cocked twitched as it hardened, heat wafting from the smaller man.

A small impatient sound escaped the other wizard at Albus’s hesitation, but was soon replaced with a gasp and a low drawn out moan as he pressed fully into the younger man’s heated sex. Albus carefully thrust into the other man twice before leaning a little further forward and beginning to rut roughly; Severus gasped, his entire body loose as he was fucked into; with only a little effort Albus managed to role and manhandle the panting sweating man beneath him onto his stomach. He loved the quiet wanton sounds escaping the man beneath him, flushed pale skin covered in sweat, eyes glazed, and mouth slack against the covers; the hormonal lust between them spikes quickly, filling the small heated room and smothering them both. Albus could feel the electrical charge thrumming through his core, his blood sounding loudly in his ears as his heart beat viciously against his ribs.

      This session felt different, faster, hotter, and Albus felt as though he were gaining altitude with each hard thrust; something about their coupling was changing, turning servicing into something else, something altogether frightening. Albus could feel the panic beginning to flood into his veins, combating the lust and the need to rut, but he couldn’t stop, only curl further into the body beneath him. He felt the trembling that had previously assaulted the younger man vanish from the pale lean body, and instead seem to seep into his own limbs; he knew he made some noise, even though he couldn’t hear it; whatever it was however the man beneath him responded, shifting beneath him to press up against him.

Their bodies slid easily against each other, sweat slick skin aiding their movements. Albus was surprised at how warm the other man felt against his skin, as though he had a sudden chill. As his trembling intensified, the anxiety and chill distracting from the coil tightening in his gut, Albus’s hips stuttered slightly, losing their momentum.

        “What—” Severus merely nodded his head, pressing up against the older man a little firmer, rocking his own his back to compensate.

        “I can feel it too,” He managed to gasp out before pressing his forehead against the mattress beneath him, high keening sounds escaping him.

       “What is it?” Albus gasped out before his arms gave out and he collapsed against the other’s back with a grunt; Severus didn’t seem to notice and or care that the other man had collapsed atop him; in fact, the sounds of high keening pleasure rose into mewling cries as he continued to writhe.

After a moment the Alpha managed to brace himself on his elbows, panting and grunting as they continue to move together; Severus didn't let the man above him stop moving, but kept his knees locked carefully to support the other’s weight no matter what. He could hear the low distressed noises the Alpha made as he pressed his forehead between his shoulder blades, and he couldn't help but make his own little mewling noises in response as they continued to rut together rapidly.

       Albus had no clue why he felt so shaky and chilled, but he could feel as the Omega beneath him curled up against him, keeping them as connected as possible, that the younger man could sense it too; he could sense the anxiety, and desired nothing more than to comfort him. The Omega was calm; yes, he was panting and mewling, writhing back against him in the grip of his heat, but there was no anxiety in him; no fear, or anxiety, only calm, and it began to get to Albus.

Stilling his hips, cock still buried in the other’s ass, Albus bore down against the other’s warm back and sank his teeth deep into the Omega’s neck; this is what he needs to focus on; his Omega needs him, and no crisis or fear he might feel can distract him; _this_ is what his Omega needs, this is how he needed to be bred.

      “Oh God!” Severus gasped out, his voice rising into a scream but breaking into a stuttering gasp. Albus felt the body beneath him shudder and go as slack as the position would allow; no more offering comfort, this is how his Omega should be, panting and fretting, focused entirely on his need to be bred; _not_ on comforting his Alpha.

Albus snarled against the other’s neck, running his tongue across the flesh between his teeth; he felt the shudder that racked the man beneath him as the bonding gland was stimulated, narrow hips curling back to press flush against Albus’s own hips, forcing his cock even deeper. He could feel the slick pooling thickly in the other’s channel, drowning his cock in the warm fluid; wet squelching noises broke the relative silence between them the panting Omega curling his hips against him again, desperate to be bred.

Slick seeped out around his cock, the Omega’s channel overflowing as his body continued to keep him well lubricated; the slick was warm as it leaked out to freshly coat the Omega’s trembling thighs, and Albus’s heavy balls. He bit down harder against the bonding gland and rocked forward, drawing a startled cry from the man beneath him; he began a forceful rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of the other’s obscenely leaking sex.

      The Omega’s internal temperature skyrocketed, and Albus couldn't believe how hot the wet sex around his cock was; the Omega felt like a cauldron that was ready to blow. He growled against the flesh between his teeth, saliva pooling in his mouth and coating the other’s skin. He heard the man beneath him begin babbling nonsensically, lifting his hips as best as he could to try and meet each of Albus’s brutal thrusts.

Albus merely moaned against the pale neck as he bred his Omega; Albus never would have guessed, that in the moment, the moment where they became one, joining each other through the bond, that it would be the other man who had control, but know he knew; it took effort to distinguish the babbling, and translate it back into proper English, his brain addled with fever and rut.

      “That’s so good, Albus. You’re perfect, so good, oh God, yes, just like that.” Severus praised, it all coming out to quickly, on a rush of air from his lungs before he gasped and panted for breath, his head feeling dizzy as the room began to spin around him. The heat was still there, burning in his insides, the fever assaulting his blood viciously, but his mind had returned to him the moment that the older wizard had sank his teeth into his neck.

The Alpha keened weakly against his neck, teeth sinking in a little deeper; but the burn of his abused and tearing skin meant nothing to him; the pleasure of the bonding gland between sharp teeth erased the fear of any potential damage the bite might cause. The keening and grunting sounds that escape the Alpha pleased Severus in the strangest of ways, and he couldn't help but try and angle himself as he was roughly fucked, so that each thrusts hit deeper; the wet rude sounds as their bodies connect, the slick flowing freely between their joined bodies, only turns him on all the more.

The heat was there, the need to be rutted and bred still there, burning in his very bones, but the arousal was something else entirely; he could control it, rather than it control him. He rolled his hips, moving with and then against the Alpha’s thrusts, making sure that the Alpha would feel every bit of him dragging against his cock; he was careful not to let the other slip fully out of him, pressing back firmly whenever he felt the connection might break; he wouldn’t do that, couldn’t, he couldn’t leave his Alpha, not now, not when the Alpha needed him perhaps more than Severus needed the Alpha.

      The Alpha’s weight leaned more firmly against him as the other’s arms circle around him, hands holding him firmly; the gesture though tight with the Alpha’s efforts were obviously affectionate. Severus shifted slightly, grunting as he felt the Alpha’s knot bump against his entrance bluntly; his body flushed with heat at the knowledge that at any moment the Alpha would be filling him up and extinguishing his heat for the time being.

The entire experience was oddly surreal; fully aware of himself, but still in the grips of his heat, with the Alpha fucking into him, Severus wondered if all Omega’s got this privilege when the bond is formed; the privilege to properly view the sexual dynamic of their kind in the heat of the moment.

      “Oh yes, yes please inside of me, all of it. I need all of you, I’m yours,” He groaned out, the knot catching on the rim of his entrance with each fast thrust. “Knot me, tie me, tie me to you, breed with me.” He gasped as he felt the Alpha’s thrusts firm a little more, the rhythm lost but the thrusts just as quick and hard as before.

The Alpha growled weakly as his knot began to feel puffy and sore, ready to blossom fully and tie them together; his teeth snapped shut against the other’s neck as his knot was buried in the stifling wet heat and locked them together.

      “You feel so good, oh God, Albus, yes, right there, oh yes, fuck—” Severus gasped as the Alpha bit him, the connection of teeth and skin disappearing as the Alpha cried and grunted as climax washed over him; Severus couldn't help but moan in pleasure as he was filled with the other man’s warm thick seed.

 

*******

 

       The two are locked together for a long time; longer than any of their previous sessions. Severus rested against the damp covers contentedly, feeling warm, happily tired, and blissfully sore. Albus hadn't spoken to him at all, but he couldn't bring himself to mind too much; either the other man still hadn't risen from the rut educed haze that clouded his mind, or he simply was enjoying the feeling of their bodies locked together.

Exhaustion was another reason Severus could imagine would cause silence; he’d milked six long orgasms from the older Wizard, and he knew that the ordeal was not easy on the other’s body; he imagined it wouldn’t be easy on anyone’s body, being drained of so much, and for so long. Albus may not have spoken to him, but he’d gently nuzzled at his neck, lovingly tending the torn skin around the bonding gland with soft kisses and gentle licks; the affection had tingled through Severus pleasantly making him tremble and twitch slightly, which had only brought on further milking of the other’s knot.

Albus hadn’t tended the gland since, but continued to gently press kisses to the base of Severus’s neck and top of his spine, sniffing and scenting at him silently. A few times the older wizard and gasped in surprise at a few smaller orgasms, which had also surprised Severus, who had relaxed enough to stop himself from milking at the other’s knot. It was after one of the smaller orgasms that Severus could take the silence no longer.

      “You feel amazing inside of me,” he sighed contentedly, his head resting against his crossed arms; the feeling of the slight twitching inside of him, and the knot keeping him stretched wide made his own erection twitch between his thighs. He’d cum shortly after they’d been tied, but the nine prolonged orgasms that filled him up and made his insides feel stuffed had pushed him to arousal again. He hadn’t touched himself, tired and content, and rather enjoying the heavy throbbing ache between his thighs; it only added to his post coital afterglow.

      “It is where I belong, love.” Albus stated voice quiet and exhausted. “Being buried deep inside of you is like being home, it is where I belong; I belong to you now, just as you belong to me; we belong to each other, no and forever.” Severus gasped in shock, biting his arm and whining as his body tensed and thrummed, his cock erupting to spill against the soil sheets; Albus groaned softly behind him as his twitching and quivering muscles milked another small orgasm from the older man.


	10. The bonded Heat

      As Severus’s heat progressed he noted that the onset after each reprieve was far less stressful than he had experienced as of yet; he wondered if it had anything to do with the bond, which since its initiation had left him feeling relaxed and contentedly lethargic.

Albus on the other hand was far more agitated; he fussed until Severus had climbed off of the bed so that the bedding could be removed and replaced with clean linens; he’d insisted upon them getting cleaned up, something that Severus had agreed needed to be done but had no energy for, which lead to Albus threatening a forceful sponge bath until Severus gave in.

      It was nearing seven-thirty in the morning on the third day of Severus’s heat, and the Potions Master was dozing on and off upon the bed; the sheets were cool, crisp, and clean, and the entire room smelled faintly of cotton. His clothes had been taken for cleaning sometime in the night by their house elf nurse maid, something that Severus had missed entirely; Severus didn’t mind though, he was perfectly content to lounge on the Headmaster’s bed, his  _lovers_ bed naked. He marveled at how relaxed he felt, how calm his mind had become; even though he knew that it wouldn’t last, he enjoyed the feeling as though there was nothing wrong in the world.

Opening his eyes sleepily, Severus glanced towards the other Wizard who’d taken to puttering about cleaning up the room; Severus had torn it apart in his heat induced frenzy for relief before Albus had initially joined him; he’d apologized, but Albus had merely shaken his head and stated that no apology was needed. Severus watched the older wizard move about putting things away, occasionally muttering to himself under his breath in a thoughtful manner; Albus had thoroughly cleaned once he’d sponged Severus down, and was wrapped in a thin lavender under robe; he’d tied his beard in several places, so as to make containing it during their romps easier.

Glancing towards the bedside table, which was nearly eclipsed with books, Severus eyed their paired wands, both resting neatly atop the wooden surface. The two wands were perhaps just as different as the two wizards that they had chosen.

      Snape’s being a modest length of blackened wood, the shaft smooth with a slightly flattened point, and an intricately carved patterned handle. The wand was rather rigit, perfect for curse work, and had proven to be quite loyal and unyielding; there had never been any doubt that his wand would not willingly fall into another’s hand easily. The loyalty of the ebony wand would be a hard earned thing should anyone else ever get their hands on it.

       Dumbledore’s wand on the other hand was pale, making quite a contrast to Snape’s black one. It was long and slender, with a grooved and carved beaded handle and shaft, the only completely smooth section of wood being that of the tip, which was rounded. The wand though aged and lined in appearance (much like the wizard it had chosen) was in perfect condition.

      Turning his attention back towards the older wizard, Severus watched him sleepily. Albus had gone about regrouping what food they had yet to eat, keeping everything contained in small neat little piles; the house elf brought them new food every evening, even if they hadn’t managed to finish off the last platter fully.

       “Why not simply use your wand?” Severus inquired from his place on the bed, stretching against the mattress with a slight groan before going completely limp again, resting his head at a slight angle against the pillows. Albus glanced back at him, blue eyes bright and alert, though also a little harsh; Severus could tell that the man was agitated, but couldn’t quite bring himself to care too much about it.

      “Because using my wand would be all too easy, and then I would have nothing to do.” Albus huffed slightly, though his voice still contained its usual calm lilt. Severus quirked an eyebrow before rolling his head on his neck and giving a slight shrug; if the other man was so irritated he could think of better things to do than organize fruit.

        “If you’re so desperate for something to do, why don’t you join me?”

         “Is your heat setting back in, love?” Albus inquired with a frown, turning his full attention towards Severus, who felt his lips curl in a slight smile.

         “No, but I’m sure we could think of a way to keep you occupied; your constant puttering around the room is distracting me from dozing.” Severus sighed exasperatedly rolling his eyes slightly as he shifted over on the bed to permit the other man sufficient room to join him.

        Once Albus was settle on the bed he huffed and sighed irritably; Severus climbed over the older man and daftly undid the knot on the thin robe, parting the material quickly. Albus cocked a brow but remained quiet while Severus ran his hands along his sides and hips.

       “Relax,” Severus said quietly, sighing through his nose as he leaned over his lover and looked him directly in the eye. “There’s no reason to be so worked up, unless of course you’re actually being _worked_ up.” He teased, his voice hinting towards mocking. Something flashed in the older wizard’s eyes, and though Severus registered it and knew he ought to back down, he found that he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it. When he didn’t back down, in a moment he found himself with his back against the bed once again, and the other wizard atop him; shifting slightly, but giving no real effort to reverse their roles or struggle he settled against the bedding contentedly.

      “Your idea of distraction is clever, though I wonder if it is unwise.” Albus mused as he ran his own hands along the other’s narrow stomach. Severus sighed contentedly, eyes drifting closed for the briefest of moments before opening and refocusing upon the other man.

     “Perhaps unwise yes, but if you must be doing something, you might as well be doing something that both of us can enjoy.” He teased with a small mocking smile, which caused Albus to tsk at him.

      “My dear, you are perhaps my favorite distraction, whether you’ll come to regret this or not is yet to be seen.”

        “Oh shut up Albus—” before anything more insulting could raise to his unusually relaxed mind the older man had bent low over him and began suckling at his left breast, rolling the bead of flesh with his tongue to encourage it to harden to a point. “Oh!” Severus gasped, remaining where he was, determined to simply let his lover distract himself without direction, though the urge to touch, even if only to card his fingers through long silver hair, was already so tempting.

       Albus was thankful for a distraction, at least one that he could thoroughly enjoy; though he had long since given up on having a true loving relationship, Severus being his first since he was a teenager, he had had many lovers.

As a young man, he’d taken on many different lovers, and learned many different forms of love; and though some forms were not to every person’s tastes, he’d found that not a single form did he dislike. But what he enjoyed perhaps the most, and always had with any whose bed he might be sharing, was the mere act of thoroughly worshiping their bodies. And despite that he’d thoroughly explored Severus’s body over the course of their times together, it was different to properly do it without the heat and rut, in the right mind; he enjoyed cataloging every sound, every hitch in his lover’s breath, every gasp, strangled groan and smothered moan. Every squirm brought him a sense of contented joy, every time fingers would seek him out only to shy away and bury themselves in tangled sheets. He loved finding every sensitive spot, and figuring out which spot made his lover squirm, or made his lover thrash; he loved discovering which was which, and which to exploit for the best reactions. He enjoyed drawing out his lovers pleasure, making them sweat and fret, trembling against bed sheets, whimpering and stuttering broken pleas and gasping his name when they could think of nothing else to say. He enjoyed bring his lovers to back bending and toe curling climax; a rush of ecstasy to short circuit the brain and shock the body as it washed through his lover’s core. After drawn out pleasure, a strong mind blowing orgasm was quite a pleasant surprise.

He was also quite fond of the drawn out orgasms, the orgasms that didn’t so much shatter the foundation, but rather, gently caressed it; some said that drawn out orgasms could be disappointing, though he’d never found that to be so. He rather enjoyed touching and loving his partners while they gasped softly in confusion, surprised by how gentle their release could be; he’d certainly never received complaints, though he also never left his lovers after such a tame encounter, rather continue to touch and kiss and manipulate their bodies throughout, and beyond till they were worked up again, sweating and fretting and pleading for more. Albus enjoyed sex and love in all its forms, but nothing he enjoyed more than learning every weakness of his lover and thoroughly exploiting it.

 

      Severus’s ploy to use sex as a distraction worked perfectly, and the two squirmed and lazily rolled on the bed, touching and kissing, gasping and moaning for a long time. The onset of Severus’s heat happened so gradually that neither of them had really noticed the change until their love making had reached a fever pitch; Severus gasped, fingers tangling into the sheets as his knees dug heavily into the bed. Sweat clung to him like a second skin, his dark hair falling into his face as he panted and hissed, his body rocking and swaying with the motion of the older wizard behind him. They hadn’t become less loving, just a little more aggressive about it.

      Sinking his teeth into the younger man’s shoulder, Albus practically purred at the broken gasp that was forced from the smaller body beneath him. He slid his arm around the pale stomach, his hand sliding along almost clammy skin to fondle the other’s half hard cock.

      “Fuck.” Severus gasped beneath him, his entire body stuttering as Albus fondled his cock, encouraging it to full hardness again; the pillar of flesh was coated in cum, both fresh and old, and Albus used it to coat his hand and make pumping easier. “It’s to much,” the younger wizard gasps, his voice thick with arousal. Albus’s teeth sink a little deeper into the other’s shoulder as another orgasm washes over him, forcing his eyes shut as he rocked into the body beneath him, his swollen knot keeping them firmly tied together. “Ah, fuck,” Severus whimpered, his voice and tone rising slightly as he’s filled with even more of his lovers cum, stimulating his hot inner walls. “Bastard,” he hissed against the sheets, his body locking up and trembling as he’s milked, spilling a few weak threads of cum into his lover’s hand.

       Albus released the other’s shoulder, licking his lips as he panted heavily above the smaller body, smearing the cum in his hand against a heaving stomach as he tried to stable himself. They both hissed and flinched when Severus jerked up, pushing his back flush against his older lover, not relenting until they were both moving awkwardly together.

      “Severus,” Albus hissed, his cock twitching against the other’s heated velvet insides, his swollen knot throbbing as it was stimulated. With only soft gasps and short hisses between teeth, Albus found himself on his back on the bed, Severus atop him, straddling his hips, back to him.

     “It never fails to, ah,” A sharp gasp escaped the younger man as his weight forced the older wizards cock deeper into him, the knot locking them together burning him as he was forced to stretch around it in their new position. “surprise me, just how good it feels to have you inside of me.” He panted, bracing his hands on the other’s knees.

They remained there silent for a moment; the only sound their heavy labored breathing as they adjusted to their new position. Albus ran his hands along the pale narrow back, his fingers feeling each slight bump of the other’s spine.

      “Oh, I can feel you inside of me, so hot and hard,” Severus gasped above him, his pale and bruised shoulders hunching forward slightly as he spoke, his voice harsh and thick; his words only vaguely registered to Albus, who continued to gently stroke his back. The pheromones that wafted thickly from the younger wizard were still fogging his mind, leaving him only partially capable of understanding the other’s words; and so long as his Omega wasn’t showing signs of distress, he would remained relaxed—or as relaxed as possible.

Severus slid his left hand from the other’s knee, up along his thigh to fondle his limp cock, hissing as he did so; he was sore, sensitive, and his cock protested weakly to the treatment, little sparks of discomfort shooting into his gut, but he ignored it. The feeling of his Alpha’s hardened dick buried deep inside him, the burning feeling of being stretched around his Alpha’s knot, it was all enough to override the discomfort. He fondled and jerked at himself, panting and trembling as he worked himself back to hardness; the pressure of the hands on his back grew a little firmer, a little more insistent, as though comforting him, soothing him, while he trembled. Severus gasped and whined when the Alpha beneath him suddenly jerked, shifting them both slightly; he could feel the cock buried inside of him twitching against his walls, the knot rubbing and pulling at his raw muscles as the Alpha forced himself up, wrapping his arms around him.

       “Want to see you,” was the growled answer to an unasked question, and all Severus could do was whimper and wine as the Alpha repositioned them, over stimulating them both in the process. Severus had to stop his fondling of his cock to stabilize himself once the Alpha had settled, and glanced back over his shoulder curiously. Albus had pulled them back against the headboard, so that he could sit with Severus in his lap, and Severus couldn’t help but lean back a little, pressing his back against the other’s stomach. This position would grant them the closeness Severus craved, while also permitting him more control. “Want to see you,” Albus said again, a low growl against the side of Severus’s ear, making him moan low in his throat; part of him still couldn’t quite wrap himself around the idea that someone wanted him, someone wanted to take care of him, watch him, look at him, love him. It was such an overwhelming and strange concept to him, and his head spun with the knowledge of it. “Want to see you touch yourself,” Albus whispered, licking and nipping at the shell of the darker wizard’s ear. “watch you while you cum, watch you while you take my seed,” Severus whimpered and shivered, his eyes closing as he leaned back into his Alpha; he’d stopped touching himself when they’d been re-positioning, but he could feel his cock twitch between his thighs, sore and throbbing as it hardened a little further. “You’ll take it all won’t you?” Albus hummed against the other’s pale sweaty neck, his lips brushing against a few red and yellow marks he’d left there.

Albus shifted his hips a fraction and his cock twitched aggressively, the tightness in his balls and the fire in his gut pulsing; he was so close to bursting again. The smaller man in his lap whimpered piteously, swallowing wetly before being able to respond. 

      “Y-yes.”

Albus hummed happily at that, and sucked on the other’s pulse point for a moment, drawing a small sharp intake of breath from his trembling lover; his little Omega was drenched in cooling sweat, leaving his pale sallow skin clammy. The spunk that had leaked out onto his thighs had begun to dry, leaving the skin flaky and a little pink. They were both exhausted, nearly drained of all their energy, but Albus was running on pure instinct; as tired as they were, his Omega was still wanting, and he couldn’t have that.

      “Yes you will, you’ll take every last drop I have to offer won’t you?” He purred. “Selfish, greedy little thing that you are.” Another whimper and Albus nearly lost his resolve to remain still; the urge, the need to grab pale hips in a vice like grip and fuck up into him with all his strength was nearly suffocating, but besides a slight tremble he managed. “I want to watch you take it,” He whispered against the other’s ear. Severus shivered and opened his eyes as he felt the familiar pressure and static of the Alpha’s magical energies brush over him; lifting his head he was surprised to see himself.

He blinked, confused for just a moment before he felt his body flush with heat at the realization of what had happened; Albus had conjured up a mirror at the foot of the bed, and a large mirror. It was oval in shape, with an ornate and slightly faded silver frame, but the reflective glass surface was perfect and dust free. Severus could see himself in perfect clarity; flushed naked skin, curtains of sweat slicked hair clinging to his forehead and temples, pert nipples, and spread thighs. He swallowed uncomfortably as he took in the reflection, unable to look away at the picture they made; his thighs were spread wide, and he could see where he was stretched wide over his lover’s cock and knot.

      “Look at you,” Albus whispered, and Severus started slightly, drawn back to himself. He shot a quick sidelong glance towards the other man who was looking at him from over his shoulder, their faces nearly touching. “Stretched wide for me,” Albus sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of Severus’s head. “you’re such a good boy,” Severus trembled again slightly, the praise affecting him in duel manners. He could feel the heat, which had dulled to mere embers in his gut flair up at once, and his insides begin to flush with fresh slick.

He whimpered and worried his bottom lip between slightly crooked teeth, his ears burning as he felt his insides slicken.

      “Mmmn, yes,” Albus ran his hands along the younger wizards pale sides and stomach, one hand coming to rest on a pale hip, the other resting over the other’s lower stomach, fingers just shy of touching the base of his Omega’s cock. “I can feel it,” he purred. “feel how wet you are, feel how you produce more and more slick to pool around my cock. I’m already inside of you, have already pumped you full of my cum,” he let his lips brush against the other wizard’s flushed cheek, lips catching on black hair slightly. “where is all that slick going to go?” He mused, and pressed a little against the other’s lower stomach, making him whine. “Already inside of you, giving you everything I have, and still you want more,” He tsked, nipping at the other’s earlobe, his hand still resting heavily against the other’s lower stomach. “selfish.” Severus whimpered, his head tilting back slightly, not quite resting on the older man’s shoulder.

       “P-please,” he body was beginning to heat again, and he felt confused, perhaps a little ashamed of himself, but mostly he felt needy; his Alpha’s cock was already buried as deep as it would go inside of him, had already filled him with cum more times than he could count, but now his heat was growing steadily hotter, and part of him was worried that it would burn him up, and that his Alpha wouldn’t be able to put it out.

Sensing the small spike of anxiety, Albus moved his hand from his lover’s stomach to his chest steadying him. Pushing his head forward with his own, he pressed his lips over the bonding gland, still a little scabbed and swollen from when he’d claimed him. He ran his tongue across the area, and felt the Omega in his lap go limp with a whimper. 

      “I have you, you’re mine now, and I’ll take care of you.” He whispered, licking the gland one more time before looking back over the other’s shoulder. Their eyes locked in the mirror, and the burning ache in his own gut throbbed. “Touch yourself love, touch yourself like you were before, I want to watch you.” Albus paused, and something wicked crossed his darkened blue eyes for a moment. “I want to watch you watch yourself.” He added in a low whisper. Severus swallowed thickly, his gaze watching the reflection of his lover before darting to his own.

His cock had fully hardened, standing straight and erect between his spread thighs; it was swollen and flushed an angry red color, thick beads of precum glistening from the slit and along the veined underside. As he looked at his reflection, his cock twitched, more precum beading at the slit, sending more to glisten along his shaft. He glanced briefly down, between his own thighs before looking back at the mirror; he knew that that was where he was supposed to look, at his own reflection. He was supposed to watch himself as he pleasured himself, as he worked himself to climax; he hesitated.

       “Touch yourself,” Severus flinched slightly, the voice was still soft, gentle, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty about his own hesitations. “I want you to touch yourself, touch yourself until it isn’t enough, touch yourself until you can’t help but fuck yourself upon by cock, and if you reach a point where you can’t fuck yourself anymore, I’ll take over.” Severus shivered violently, eyes closing momentarily before opening again and focusing in on his own reflection.

His hand slid back between his thigh and he wrapped his fingers loosely around himself; even the light touch was uncomfortable, but the moment he began touching himself, despite the discomfort, the heat in his gut was fueled. He bit his lip, brows knitting together as he fondled himself, running his fingers up and down his length, pulling the foreskin away from the swollen crown. He didn’t touch himself that often, having never been big on masturbation, and knowing that his Alpha preferred being the one to handle him, that he really had no true talent for it, and soon he gave up on the softer slower touches and merely tightened his grip and began pumping himself. He panted and gasped as he jerked himself off, his hand moving quicker despite how sore his flesh was; his gut was fluttering as the inferno in his stomach heightened, and all he wanted was to cum, to relieve if nothing else the pressure in his balls and cock. He could feel the Alpha’s cock twitching inside of him, and gritting his teeth, Severus braced himself as best he could, gripping the other’s knee and beginning to bounce in his lover’s lap; the knot prevented him from really properly riding the cock inside of him, which he wanted to do desperately, but the extra slick helped ease the burn of stretching over the knot as he moved.

Gasping, and unable to fully handle the stimulation to his sexes, Severus screwed his eyes shut and bowed his head, grinding and bouncing against the cock in his ass. Albus groaned weakly as the younger wizard’s hips jerked and moved against him, fresh sweat breaking out over his skin as he exerted himself. Albus dropped his own gaze from the mirror his forehead bumping against his lover’s back as he closed his own eyes; the over stimulation brought on by being fucked by his Omega, his love, made him feel as though he were teetering on the edge of death’s sweet embrace.

       “I need it, please, oh God,” Severus cried, voice broken as he continued to move. “I need you to finish it, oh God, please,” Albus could practically feel the desperation in the other’s voice, feel the way that the sound sets his entire body on edge, sharpening his focus and drawing his mind to only one thing; give his Omega everything he can or die trying.

Lifting his head, Albus grasped at the pale hips bouncing in his lap and holding them firmly before driving his own hips up with as much strength as he can muster; the smaller male let out what could only be described as a squeak as Albus felt his knot sink a little deeper into the other’s hole. Albus’s heals dig into the sheets as he fucks up into the other wizard as best he can, their position on the bed gives him very little leverage. But the wet tightness that squeezes around his abused knot his enough to bring him over the edge, and his entire body tenses and strains as his cock erupts and spills into the needy Omega, breeding him, and cooling his aggressive heat.

Severus moaned and groaned as he was filled again, his insides gushing with cum and slick as he clamed down around the Alpha’s cock and knot. His own cock erupted, twitching and throbbing as his balls seized up and pulsed against him, though he mostly shivered and trembled, his cock only releasing two small spurts before going dry and twitching through his climax.

He finished before Albus did, and sighed exhaustedly as the Alpha twitched and pushed against him, filling him up. His limp cock twitched between his thighs as the sensation of being overfilled, his ass and gut feeling rather… sludgy. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling really, but it made his stomach uncomfortable, as though he were on the verge of catching a bug or something else that could turn ones stomach sour.

Once the older wizard’s climax dies down, and he could feel the knot beginning to steadily deflate, Severus sighed and lowered himself so that he could rest his elbows against the bed between his lover’s knees. He was bent over at an odd angle, but the added pressure to his gut and lower stomach soothed him so he didn't mind the ache in his hips and knees so much.

      “Good job old man,” he praised sarcastically, though the bite of the words were softened by the obvious affection and exhaustion he couldn’t quite repress. The only response he received was a faint snort and a light swap to his left thigh.

**Author's Note:**

> I am very fond of the Alpha/Omega trope, and decided that it was lacking in the Dumbledore/Snape ship. I decided that when I finally got around to attempting this trope, they would be the source of my inspiration. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this, perhaps more then was decent; I hope that you enjoyed it as much as I did.


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